


The Road to Recovery

by jamiesommers



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Hunger Games, Post Mockingjay, Pre Epilogue Mockingjay, Rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:33:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 82,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamiesommers/pseuds/jamiesommers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that the fighting has stopped and the war is over Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark have to try and find a way to rebuild their lives. Follow them on their journey down the road to recovery and see how they deal with the deaths of their loved ones, survive through horrific nightmares, and forge an unbreakable bond. With the ghosts of their past coming back to haunt them, can Katniss ever allow love into her life and can Peeta overcome the effects of his torture and remember falling in love with Katniss?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trying for Prim's Sake

**Author's Note:**

> Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins. I have enjoyed playing in her sandbox. Thanks Suzanne for giving all of us a world in which we can lose ourselves for a little while.

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter One: Trying For Prim's Sake**

**The Road to Recovery**

  
  


"You'll try?" I hear Prim's question fading with the rise of the sun through my window. My eyelids open and I stare at my bedroom ceiling. I think of Peeta.

"I'll try, Prim." Today was the day I was going to ask if he would like to help me with my book. We hadn't spoken much lately, but I knew he had been in my house. I could smell his bread everyday when I got home from hunting, whether there was a loaf left or not. Today I would try to put things right with Peeta. Though I had no clue how to do that, I had to make a first step and since I really did need his help with the book, this was the perfect time to mend our friendship. Yes. My friend. The baker's son. I missed him.

I throw my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. I don't even know what time it is, but I can smell the food cooking in the kitchen. This is my signal to take a shower and get dressed.

As I walk downstairs I can hear two voices. One of them says goodbye, Greasy Sae, and the door closes. The other, Peeta, lets out a little bit of a startled gasp, but not too much. _Wouldn't want to give away your position in the Game. If I'd been hunting you, you'd be dead already._ I quickly push that thought to furthest corners of my mind as the mere idea makes me want to puke up the breakfast I haven't even eaten yet.

"Hi," Peeta says in his gentle tone. "I was just leaving you some bread."

"I could smell it." I try to smile, but I just can't find one. Again I hear Prim in the back of my mind asking me to try. My eyes close and I take a deep breath in and let it out.

Peeta must take this as a sign of displeasure because he says, "Well, I'll let myself out."

"No!" I snap at him. Once again I take a deep breath, this time leaving my eyes open. "Please. Stay." That's all I can get out. _This is harder than I thought._

Peeta's eyes squint as he gives me a once over and then shrugs his shoulders and says, "Okay. Sae made enough for two anyway."

The breath, I did not realize I was holding inside of my lungs, was finally released. I allowed myself to relax a little and went into the kitchen to get a plate of food and a slice of bread.

Peeta layered some jam on our slices of bread and I poured our cups of tea. I find the tea to be soothing to my stomach so eating breakfast isn't as much of a chore as I thought it would be.

Peeta is full of conversation. He speaks of inconsequential things. Who's selling what in the market. Who has come back to the district. Who is new to the district. When he begins to speak of his paints and how he's having a difficult time finding the correct mixture for a particular shade of gold, I think of Cinna's eyeliner and the glint it gave to his eyes. This snaps me out of my stupor and brings me back to my current reality. The book.

"So you're painting again?" I ask him.

"I'm trying to, but like I said, I can't seem to get the right shade of paint."

"Yes. Gold."

"Mmmm…" He shakes his head and makes a gesture with his fork. "Not just any gold. There's a certain color that's in my mind and I haven't been able to get it quite right yet."

"That's important to you, isn't it?" I ask him. I know it is. That's when I can see sweetness in Peeta's eyes and I remember a tale he told to a morphling from District 6, the one who sacrificed her life to save his, about the days he spent trying to find the perfect shade of yellow. Like a flash the image was as vivid and real to me as though it was happening in front of my eyes and then it was gone.

"I'm no different than any other artist I suppose. When you have a picture of something in your head, you want it to be perfect. Like when you asked me to draw those berries in your book. Remember?"

I nodded. The book. _I need to ask you about the book_.

"You told me that the picture had to be perfect because if it was wrong it could-" he let the thought trail off.

"Kill someone," I finished it for him.

"Yes."

The thought of deadly berries filled my mind. Nightlock. The first time I came across them was in the woods. My father slapped them out of my hand and told me, _"Not these Katniss-"_ Suddenly the silence was deafening and the ringing in my ears began to get louder and louder. The room felt so big. Like one of the Capitol dining halls. My heart began to pound and the sound echoed in my chest, joining the ringing in my ears.

"It has to be perfect. It has to be perfect! It has to be perfect!" I hear this being screamed at me over and over. I blink a few times trying to focus on my father telling me to make sure the pictures are perfect, but it's not my father's voice I hear in my head. It's Peeta's at my kitchen table.

I shake my head to clear away the cobwebs and look at him and say, "What are you screaming about?"

The smile across his face shows relief. "I said," his voice is tender now. "The shade has to be perfect for the picture I want to paint."

This is it. _This is where I try, Prim_. This is where I try to fix things. "Speaking of pictures. I have this idea about a book." I tell him what I told the doctor and show him the blank book the doctor sent me from the Capitol. "I was wondering if you would be interested in helping me with it? Sort of fill in the pages and stuff?"

"Of course I would, Katniss." I can hear something in his voice. Hope.

…

…

…

…

…

  
  


I awoke this morning with a pain in my belly. The need for food. This was something I hadn't felt for quite some time and it brought a happy memory to mind. One I would share with Peeta today as we worked on the book. I prepared myself for the day, showered, changed, brushed my teeth and braided my hair. As I headed down the stairs I noticed how quiet my kitchen was today. No Greasy Sae. No Peeta. No one but me. I wasn't sad, but I wasn't happy either. I was just alone. I looked into the living room and still no one. The study is closed; I leave it that way for now as the stench of roses still lingers within that room and brings up horrible memories. I just stand there in the middle of my house and look around. For the first time since being back I feel like I am in total solitude. I'm used to being alone in the afternoons and the evening, but I'm normally woken up by Greasy Sae's food. Being alone in the early morning hours has an almost chilling effect on me. My skin is tingling at the base of my neck and there he is. Peeta. Lying in a cold cave. In the early morning hours. Blood poisoning threatening to take his life. I can hear the sound of the woods echoing outside of our little shelter and I am frozen in time.

The fear of losing him is so overwhelming, I'm petrified. I know I must go to the feast to retrieve his medication, but I'm unable to move. All I can do is watch him die. I keep willing myself to move, but my body is set in stone. _Dear God! Don't die! Please don't die, Peeta! Don't leave me here!_

"Katniss?" Peeta calls out to me. "Please? Please?" He's begging me now. "I'm fine, Katniss. I'm fine."

I turn my head and open my eyes to find his warm eyes and worried brow focusing on me.

"Hi," he speaks so gently I can feel the concern in his voice.

"Hi." I'm unsure of where I am, but I know where I'm not. I am no longer in the middle of the arena fighting for our lives. I am no longer in a secluded cave with Peeta. "You're here."

"Where else would I be?"

"In the cave." I whisper hoarsely. I close my eyes again, and then quickly open them up for fear of being transported back to my nightmare.

"The cave? Oh, Katniss." He steps closer to me, but he doesn't hug me and I'm thankful. Though I want to feel the comfort and security of Peeta's arms, I cannot handle that right now. I'm just not strong enough. He keeps looking at me and I know that if I don't move I'm going to cry. And if the tears come, I won't be able to control them.

I begin to walk towards the kitchen and as if on cue, my stomach growls. "Would you like some breakfast?" I ask.

"Katniss," his voice is calming. "Tell me why you thought I was in the cave?"

"I will," I turn my head to him, but continue walking. "Over breakfast." Though I don't want to relive the brief flashback to the cave I experienced, I have vowed to try and make things better between him and I. So I won't keep it to myself.

I set our plates of food out as Peeta warms our bread and spreads cheese across it. We both get a cup of tea and sit at the kitchen table. I begin to tell him how I felt this morning when I awoke prior to Greasy Sae's arrival. I jump off of the topic and ask where she was this morning, not realizing that she never showed up and that Peeta and I made breakfast together, then go back into my explanation of why I thought he was dying in the cave.

"So that's why you were whimpering don't die Peeta."

This statement came as a surprise. "I said that?"

"Yes." His eyes lifted to mine and unlike yesterday where I saw hope, today I saw fear. "It scared me to see you like that."

I don't like it when he's scared. Especially if I'm the cause of it. "I never meant to frighten you."

"Well you always frightened me, Katniss." He kind of let out a little chuckle. "You were always very…"

Scary, I want to say, but don't.

"Intimidating," he finishes. "But tempting too." This is the comment that confuses me. I guess my face shows it because he explains himself. "You're like the woods used to be. Forbidden, but very tempting. That _Katniss_ …" He looks at the sunlight streaming through the living room window and says, "Nothing could touch her."

This is an explanation I can understand.

"It's the quiet _Katniss_. The timid _Katniss_ that scares me more than anything. She's the one I'm afraid of."

"We're one in the same, you know?"

"Then I suggest you find a way to bring the two together, because separately, they're both somewhat unapproachable."

"You approach me." If it hadn't been for the Hunger Games, would he have approached me?

The tilt of his head and question in his eyes ask the question I just asked myself.

After we clean our breakfast dishes we take out the book and I show Peeta the picture of my father and I tell him what I'd like to write about him. This brings me back to the happy memory I had this morning when I woke up. I tell Peeta about my first time swimming and I see him. I see Peeta again. I can see the boy I spent the day with on a rooftop, talking, napping, eating, and holding hands with. I see my friend in his eyes and now I have hope too. His face is familiar as is his smile. He's watching me as I tell him the story of my experience in the little lake my father brought me to and I realize that I missed this aspect of our friendship. This easy going dynamic we developed over time. It felt good retelling the tale, but it felt better telling it to him.

It was that day that Peeta began making sketches on scraps of paper for the book. He asked me, "Do you know who you'd like to start off with?" I knew he was asking if I wanted to start with Prim or my dad.

"No," I answer honestly. I'm afraid that the wounds of Prim's death are still too fresh, but I think they'll always feel that way.

"Okay." Peeta just takes a sheet of paper and sits at the table with it. After a minute passes. Two. Three. He reaches for his pencils and takes one out in a shade of brown. He's made the decision for me.

I watch as Peeta's fingers move over the paper and it's nothing more than an outline of my father's face, but I recognize it immediately. He draws my father's eyes, nose and a smile. _Yes_ , I think to myself. _My father should be the one we start with._

"Peeta," I place my hand on his to stop him from continuing his drawing. I only have a couple of pictures of my father, yet Peeta hasn't copied those photos, he's drawing something else entirely. "What is this a picture of?"

"Your father." He answers so innocently.

"I'm aware of that, but it's not a copy of his wedding photo or the photo we kept on the mantel."

"No," Peeta looks at me. "This is what he looked like when he saw you going to greet him as he walked home from the mines. I used to watch his face light up when he would look at you, Katniss. It was something."

I stand up and pick up the book from the table. I take the scrap of paper with my father's face on it, out of Peeta's hand and place the book in front of him. I give him a little nod of approval and run my hand across his shoulder as I walk into the kitchen for a cup of tea. "Go ahead and draw it." It's obvious to me that he doesn't need to practice sketching this picture.

Watching Peeta turn a blank piece of paper into my father's portrait was nothing short of remarkable. He got lost in his own little world and I knew I was privileged to be able to watch as he created something magnificent. At first I was enthralled with his hands and how they worked. His fingers always seemed to know what inks to grab for and when. I keep looking at the paper as well, wondering when the different colors will actually start looking like my father. Eventually I am too overwhelmed by my desire to stare at Peeta as he works. The intensity smoldering in his eyes makes me think of the suits that Cinna designed for us to wear at the Tribute Parade during the Quarter Quell. A slight sweat breaks out across his temple and his eyes are unblinking. I cannot stop looking at his face. I have seen this face before, too many times. When he was helping me with the book on plants, in the arena, at the Capitol and then I think to myself, _If he had done this during the first Games, shown everyone this fierce passion, it would've been the boy on fire not the girl_.

Though my stomach growls a bit in the early afternoon, I know better than to bring any food or water next to Peeta while he's working. He's afraid something might spill on the paper. At some point I must have fallen asleep as I awaken to the smell of something cooking. When I open my eyes, I see Peeta in my kitchen, standing over the stove, stirring something inside of a pot.

"Hey," I'm greeted by him with a smile.

"Hi." I stand up to see what he's making.

"Nothing much," he answers my question of what's for dinner before I ask it. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a cook, but we still have some bread from this morning and this soup I'm attempting to make."

"I'm sure it will be fine, Peeta." My eyes scan the table for his completed work, but the book is nowhere to be found.

"I put it in the cupboard," he pointed toward a piece of furniture in the living room and once again I realize that he seems to be reading my mind.

As I take the book out of the wooden hutch I can feel my palms begin to sweat. For some reason I can't seem to open it. I hear Peeta slowly walking behind me.

"What do you think?" He asks me.

"I don't know yet. I can't seem to bring myself to open it."

From behind me his arm reaches out and his fingers brush mine as he lifts the cover of the book to show my father's sparkling eyes smiling up at me. He's waiting for me to run and jump into his arms as he walks home from the mines. Without realizing what I had done, I slam the cover close and I gasp.

Peeta makes an attempt to take the book out of my hand, but I don't let it go. Then he turns me by my shoulders to face him, "Are you all right?" Shaking me a little. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I nod my head. "Yes, it's just so… so real, Peeta." I look down at the book again and trace my fingers across my father's image. "How do you do this? How did you know what he looked like when he saw me?" I lifted my face to his.

Peeta smiled into my eyes and said, "I used to watch him go home whenever I could."

"What?" I was in shock by this statement.

"I couldn't help it. I was curious to know about the man who could make the birds fall silent and then one day I saw you running up to him and that was it. After that, whenever I could, I would try to watch for him when he walked home and I'd sneak peeks at the two of you."

If there was ever a question in my mind whether or not I could rebuild a friendship with Peeta, it was gone now.

 

 


	2. Darius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss is about to get a tiny glimpse into Peeta's troubled world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games and all of its characters. I am a mere fan with too much time on my hands and a wild imagination.

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Two: Darius**

**The Road to Recovery**

The next couple of weeks passed with casual visits between Peeta and myself. Nothing too intense. I was still writing my father's story in the book, at my house, while Peeta worked out some sketches on scraps of paper. When we were satisfied with a particular picture, we'd save it and then I could see Peeta's mind start working in overtime trying to decide the right colors of ink to use as a permanent picture in the book.

It wasn't until we got to Darius' picture that his mind began playing tricks on him. He'd start drawing and asked me if he got his nose right or some other feature and if I corrected him he'd get frustrated, crumpling up the image, and starting over again.

It was the third day of Darius attempts, Haymitch was there, as well as Greasy Sae, both trying to help Peeta perfect the sketch, when Haymitch said, "No, his eyes weren't that dark."

Peeta exploded. "Yes they were!" He screamed. "They were almost black!" He stood up so quickly he knocked his chair over. "I saw them," he got into Haymitch's face. "I saw them," he gritted out the words between his teeth and I knew what he saw. Darius and the other Avox being tortured in front of him while he was hijacked. Peeta swept his hands across the table and brushed all of his artist's tools onto the floor, then stormed out of the house.

The three of us, Haymitch, Greasy Sae and myself, just stood there in utter disbelief. We hadn't seen this side of Peeta in weeks. I hadn't seen it since the Capitol, but perhaps the other two had. He had been trying his best to control himself, and I was under some sort of misconception that he was just back to normal. He seemed that way to me, but maybe he was just better at hiding it than I was. Haymitch and Greasy Sae looked at me as if to say, go after him. I knew I should've gone right away, but I didn't think I could. I'm barely hanging on myself, so what help would I be to him? I answered my question instantly. You could listen. You could be a friend. He's been one to you, so why not try and be one to him?

It was a short walk to his house, yet it felt like it took me a year to get there. What would I say? I never was any good with words. That was Peeta's domain. I don't know why I was afraid to go to him, but I was. No. I knew why I was scared. I didn't want to fail him. The thought of letting him down didn't sit well with me.

I found him walking through one of his spare bedrooms. I was in awe when I walked in and saw how many of Peeta's paintings were in there. He had obviously been painting again, because he had mentioned trying to find the perfect shade of gold, but I hadn't realized to what degree. I watched him as he stoped at a painting; it's the only one with a cover on it, which he yanked off. Both of his hands gripped the top of the portrait, which I could not make out as Peeta's body was blocking my view, and he dropped to his knees. His body quaked as I heard him cry. This is when I looked at the picture and saw the red haired man in the painting was Darius being tortured. His mouth was opened, but where there should have been a tongue, was nothing but a stump and shreds of pink. I was sick to my stomach just looking at the picture. Blood dripping from two missing digits on his right hand, three missing on his left. Two of his toes were barely hanging onto his body. Bones were sticking out of him and he had been whipped, but kept alive. Barely. In the corner of the picture I could see his twin. A girl. She's portrayed to be in the distance, but you can tell she is in the same condition as Darius was. I could not take my eyes off of this scene in front of me. This scene that Peeta has painted on his canvas. This scene that haunts his nightmares. I cannot hear the noises that Darius is making, but I know Peeta can and that's when I remember. Peeta! I walked towards him and picked up the cover that he pulled off. I had no intention of putting it back on. Instead I took it in my hand and began to wipe his face.

Peeta's hand reached out to stop me. "We can't hide it, Peeta." With my other hand I removed the grip he has on me. Once again I attempted to use this material to wipe his face, this time he allowed me. His sobs had turned into whimpers. "We want to bury them, these terrible memories. Push them back as far from our minds as possible, but there's no running from them. They always seem to find us, don't they?" I made a sweeping gesture with my hand across the room and his eyes seemed to follow. "The image you want to portray of Darius will come in time, Peeta. You just need time to heal, but hiding never helped anyone." I smiled sheepishly. "Trust me. I should know."

Peeta grabbed me so quickly I fell into his embrace. I was unsure of what to do. I let him hold me, because I knew he needed it, but I couldn't respond in kind. I'm still not ready for that.

My eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on a picture of Finnick's back and Mags thrown over his shoulder smiling back at Peeta. This brought a warmth to my heart of which I could not explain. Then I saw another picture, this one was not as crisp and clear as the others, it was a swirl of colors almost and then I let my eyes adjust… The Cornucopia. I could see it now, it's the fight after Wiress was killed, but the star of this attraction was Johanna and the colors of the jungle that surrounded her. The striking blue of the water, the bright pink sky, white hot sun glaring off of the silver blades of Johanna's ax as she flew it through the air. Her hair was dark and standing up in little tufts, but I could see the hatred in her eyes. At the bottom of the scene a pool of red blood slowly seeping into the blue of the water and the gold of the sand. For a brief second I wondered if this was the shade of gold Peeta was trying to capture.

I'm not sure when it happened, but at some point I grabbed onto Peeta for dear life. We just knelt on his floor holding onto one another for what seemed like a lifetime. Eventually, we moved into a sitting position, but our link remained. We held hands and surveyed the room. This was the first time we had been this close in a long time. On one hand it felt natural sitting that way with Peeta. On the other hand, I felt extremely exposed and vulnerable. A feeling that never did mesh well with me. I refused to pull away though. Peeta needed to hold my hand and I didn't have it in my heart to hurt him.

I continued to look at the portraits that surrounded us. Some of them were so lifelike. All I said was, "Johanna."

Peeta immediately knew which one I was talking about. He stood up and walked me over to it. "This one wasn't so clear when I painted it. I just knew what was in my head and when I was done, this is what came out."

"It's Johanna," I said. Stepping closer to the portrait I ran my fingers against her silver ax. "You captured her brilliantly, Peeta." In my heart I knew Johanna would feel like me when and if she saw this portrait of herself. She'd hate it and love it at the same time. For me, I felt like I'm seeing my friend again. The thought of Johanna as my friend was a little misconceived, but she was the closest thing to a friend I had in Thirteen other than Gale. Though I know she'd never admit it publicly, or privately for that matter. "When did you paint it?"

"After your trial. The doctor thought that doing something I loved would help me."

"Did it?"

"Yes, I think." The look on his face read regret.

"You think?" I asked him.

"I have no doubt it helped me to remember things more clearly, but on the other hand…"

I finished for him. "It helped you to remember things more clearly."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Yeah." I agreed knowing what those memories entailed and how they invaded the little bits of sleep we victors got.

Peeta's head began to hang down and I knew that it was my turn to lift it up as he had done so many times for me in the past. _“Do something, Katniss. Say something.”_ I could hear Haymitch's words clear as day, _"Gush!"_

"There's one here that I actually like." Peeta's head picked up a bit. "As you know I do hate all of your pictures," I said this, in a joking tone, as I walked towards the one of Finnick carrying Mags. "But this is one of your finest."

Peeta smiled at Mags, "She was something, wasn't she?"

"Who? Mags? Of course she was, but I'm talking about Finnick." I made an attempt at teasing Peeta. "I love the way you capture his golden locks and rippling muscles as he walks with his Trident." I lifted my eyes up to glance at him and let the corner of my mouth curl up into a little smirk. "I had no clue you were studying him so closely, Peeta." I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow a bit just to accentuate the joke.

He laughed a little and said, "Uh oh." Peeta walked towards the piece of discarded material that was used to cover the portrait of Darius and tossed it into a pile of used rags. I'm glad he didn't cover it up, but the image is so vile that I understand why he did.

I turned towards him and said, "Uh oh, what?"

He stopped and looked directly into my face. "I think those two Katniss' are merging and that could mean trouble." He continued walking out of the room and down the stairs.

"Trouble!" I called out to him. "What do you mean, trouble?" Peeta just kept walking while I chased after him like trained dog. "What did you mean….Peeta?" Ignoring me completely, he walked out of the house and towards mine. I stomped my feet and begin to get angry with him. “I am not trouble,” I yelled at myself and then immediately laughed at myself, because I knew he was right. I was the biggest troublemaker in the nation. I'm the Mockingjay.

The sound of my own laughter was foreign to my ears and I'm grateful that I followed Peeta into his house today. It felt good to laugh again.

I walked into my home to hear Peeta saying his apologies to Haymitch and Greasy Sae, both of whom brushed it off like it was nothing. Compared to me, I'm sure it was nothing. My tantrums are eerily quiet at times and can go on for days. They've been known to scare Haymitch into sobriety. Still, in a sick sort of way, I was relieved to know I wasn't the only person going through this all by myself. It's wrong. I know. It's totally wrong to feel comfort knowing someone you care about is just as damaged as you are, but I no longer felt alone in my struggles and this twisted image brought me a sense of security. Peeta is not quite as healed as I thought. And he just might need me as much as I need him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though this story had been posted on another site, I have changed things in it and switching it up to be a rated M tale. Thanks for reading and feel free to stop by my tumblr page and follow me. jamiesommers23


	3. Remembering Prim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss starts the healing process of losing her sister with Peeta's help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written as a rated T story, but I am editing it and adding quite a bit to it to make it a rated M story. 
> 
> Thanks A for being my beta! You're so awesome.

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Three: Remembering Prim**

**The Road to Recovery**

The days got easier to deal with, and Peeta and I began to get comfortable with one another again. Peeta baked, Haymitch drank and I hunted. One day as I was preparing to go hunting I noticed Greasy Sae staring at me. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing girl. Just nice to see you smiling again."

_Was I smiling?_ I didn't know. A wave of guilt washed over me. _I shouldn't be smiling. I've been home for two months, and that's not nearly enough time for grieving._ I was ashamed of myself for forgetting Prim. I should have been thinking about her. Remembering her. Not smiling. I grabbed my game bag and left the house, but as I walked through Victor's Village I heard Peeta calling out my name. I ignored him. _Not today. I'm not in the mood for this today. He's the worst. He always makes me smile, laugh…forget! I should be in mourning!_

"Katniss! Hold up!"

"NO!" I screamed and ran to the woods. _He won't follow me, and I'm much faster than he is anyway._ I walked deep into the forest and took shelter between two large trees burying my face in my hands, and cried. I missed my sister. I missed her gentle voice. Her timid ways. I thought that the woods wouldn't remind me of her, but they did. I remembered her wanting to heal the animals that I shot for our dinner. "Oh Prim. Where are you? I miss you so much." Did I say he wouldn't follow me? I was wrong. He did.

"Katniss?" The gentle tone of Peeta's voice caused me to grow simultaneously weary and angry.

"Leave me alone, Peeta." I swiped my hand under my running nose. "I just want to be left alone." I was so upset with him for reasons unknown to me. It was just easier being mad at him, than at myself I guess.

"No."

Now he really pissed me off. "What do you mean? No?" I stood up and got in his face. "If I want to be left alone I have the right!"

"Yes you do, but I'm not going to leave you out here like this." _Why is he so calm?_ I should have been grateful seeing Peeta's easy going ways returning. Instead it infuriated me.

"Like what? Crying? I'm not the first person in the world to cry you know."

"No, but I don't care about other people. I care about you." He reached out to touch me, but I pulled away.

"Don't." I was so furious with him I could barely see straight.

"Don't what? Be here for you?” He paused and lowered down his voice. “Care about you?"

I hated it when he was kind to me and I was horrible to him. It made me feel so shallow...cruel. Uncaring. "Any of it! Don't be kind!"

"Sorry, I'll try to be more of an ass,” he said without an ounce of humor in his voice.

This comment took me completely off guard, and I let out something of a laugh. "That's worse." My voice, which had been shaking with anger, turned steady. I wanted the anger I had only a second ago back, but somehow Peeta has managed to subdue it, and I found myself confused at my reaction to him.

"What's worse? Making you laugh?"

"Yes." Tears were falling from my eyes. I guess they never really stopped. "I can't deal with you right now, Peeta." _Or with the emotions you bring out in me so easily_ , I said in my mind.

"I'm not asking you to _deal_ with me. Whatever that means. But I am going to ask you to deal with your tears…with your feelings."

"Okay! That!" I was frustrated and angry again. I liked that much better. I was always quite good at being mad. Being irritable had always been my forte. "That's what I mean." I wasn't sure when I began pacing like a lunatic, but it felt good to get some of my frustrations out.

"What? What's what you mean?"

"When you're all sweet to me and asking me to face my feelings. I don't want to face my feelings. I just want to cry. I want to hurt. Can't I hurt for a little while without someone trying to analyze it? Why won't anyone just let me be?" I slumped to the ground and buried my head between my knees, suddenly feeling wiped out. I could feel his hand rubbing my back in a circular motion, but he didn't say a word. I didn't want him to touch me. It felt too good, and I was currently beating myself up for allowing myself any forms of pleasure. My body was quaking violently from the tears I couldn't keep at bay, so I just let him stroke my back, and tried my best not to find comfort in his familiar touch. I tried not to throw my arms around his neck and let him hold me like he had in the past. I hadn't felt this type of touch from Peeta in so long that the tears I cried for the loss of my sister were now joined by tears for losing the love of the boy currently consoling me.

After a few minutes, when I was completely cried out, he asked me, "Feel better?"

"No." I did feel better, but I wasn't going to admit that to him.

"Ready to talk about it?"

"No." I most certainly was not going to talk to him about it either.

"Talk about it anyway." He lifted up my face and wiped the tears away from my eyes then reached into his pocket and pulled out some paper he had been using to draw sketches on. "Here. Blow your nose."

I did as he said and began talking. There was really no reason for me to tell him why I was crying other than the fact that he was there, and I knew he wouldn't go away unless I told him. Frustrated with myself for caving in so easily I finally let it spill out. "Greasy Sae told me that it was nice to see me smiling, and I felt guilty because I shouldn't be smiling. I shouldn't be happy."

"Why not?" Peeta asked innocently.

"Because." _My sister is gone_ , I thought but failed to say.

"Because Prim's dead and you're not?" I really hated it when he read my thoughts.

"Yes."

"I can understand that."

"You can?" _How could he understand this? His sister wasn't murdered! Oh... but his whole family wa_ s.

"Sure." He brushed a few loose strands of hair out of my eyes. "I felt the same way after I made some cookies last week."

_I don't remember having any cookies_.

"They were my mother's specialty. Thing is…I didn't remember that until I smelled them baking." The look on his face was torturous. "My mom… I think you can guess what kind of relationship I had with her. It wasn't the best."

I remembered him showing up to school with a black eye after burning the loaves of bread he threw to me and her comment to him about me being a survivor and quite possibly winning the Hunger Games. I was pretty sure that it was safe to say my analysis of his mother and the title, witch, was an accurate one.

He continued to speak, "When I was growing up, I hated my mother. I hated everything about her. At least I thought I did." He leaned back on his hands and stared off into the distance. "She would yell at my father for no reason and hit me anytime I did the slightest thing wrong. Not my brothers though. I never understood that." He looked at me and asked, "Why do you think she never hit them and always hit me?"

_Because_ _she knew it would hurt you more than the others. You have the biggest heart_. I gave him a shrug of my shoulder, not wanting to put my thoughts out there.

"Anyway, when I smelled the cookies baking, I remembered that these were the one thing that my mom was known for at the bakery, and I threw them away. I just took the pan out of the oven and tossed the whole thing to Haymitch's geese."

_So that's why I didn't get any cookies._

"I realized that I missed my mom. This woman I thought I hated my whole life… Turns out I actually loved her." He wrapped his arms around his knees and turned his head away from me. "She wasn't always bad, you know?” His face took on the appearance of a child which caused a part of my heart to melt. “Sometimes she'd tuck me in at night and she'd tell me she was sorry she hurt me. She always felt bad after she hit me." His voice cracked a little as he confessed this to me.

He looked at me, and I could see the eleven year old boy that came to school with a black eye again. The gut wrenching pain I felt for him was overwhelming.

"Oh, Peeta." I reached out and hugged him. "I'm so sorry." I had lost my sister, who I adored. There was no question about that, but he had lost his entire family. He was hurting for a woman that showed him barely any love throughout his life. _What that must be like. To hurt for someone like that_.

"Tell me about Prim, Katniss." I wasn't sure if I could. "Please?"

"Okay." I didn't know what to say. "What do you want to know?"

"What was it like? Having a sister?"

I thought for a moment and answered him. "Wonderful. Prim was a wonderful sister. She was everything I wasn't." I began to think of all the good things Prim brought to my life. "She could coax things out of me that no one ever could…except you on occasion." I remembered a story he got me to tell him in the cave during the Games. This made him smile. "She was so bright too, Peeta. So bright. They wanted to train her as a doctor in District Thirteen you know?"

"No. I didn't know that." He wrapped his arms around his knees and got himself comfortable as I told him about Prim.

"Yes. It's true. She had my mother's healing capabilities."

"So do you, you know?"

"No. I don't, but that's beside the point." I told Peeta of the nights Prim would get me to sing to her, and how she convinced me to keep that wretched cat, Buttercup. "Who is now a permanent fixture in my home."

"I noticed that," He chuckled.

I smiled at the thought of that ugly cat making his way back to District Twelve on his own. Buttercup was a survivor like me. I told Peeta the true story of how I got Prim's goat, Lady and he laughed.

"I knew you didn't sell a piece of jewelry."

"Yeah…well…" I knew I was blushing, but for the life of me I didn't know why. "Everyone loved Prim. For good reason too. She just brought out the best in people."

"Yeah. My mom even liked her."

"She did?"

"Yup."

"I didn't know that."

"My dad was mad about her."

"Now that I knew." I remembered his father smiling at Prim through the bakery window and waving to her on many occasions. "Your father was always nice to Prim.” I lifted my eyes to him. “He was always nice to me."

"My dad was a kind man, but-"

"But what?"

Peeta had a look of regret on his face as he said, "He wasn't very strong."

"Strong?" I always thought the baker looked strong enough, but I don't think that's the kind of strength Peeta was speaking of.

"He always let my mother push him around. Not physically…" After a few seconds he said, "I used to wonder why he never stood up to her."

I confessed, "I used to wonder why my mother almost let us starve to death after my father died." I understood now. After leaving Peeta behind in the Quell I was certain I would go mad. It wasn't until Prim and Finnick brought to my attention how he was being used against me during his time as a prisoner of war that I realized I had loved Peeta. Maybe not in a typical sense of the word, but how could I not feel love for him? He and I had been through so much together by that point, shared a bond that I had never felt with anyone else, including Gale. Yes, I understood the pain my mom felt at the loss of her husband. The man she loved so much that she left the softer life in town behind and went to live in the Seam to be with my father. "Love makes you do stupid things."

"I don't think my dad loved my mom."

"He must have, Peeta. Why else would he have married her?"

He thought about this for a moment and then said, "Because your mom fell in love with your father and not mine."

His words caused me to smile a little.

"I'm glad she did too," he said. "If she hadn't then you wouldn't be here and I wouldn't be here and…well…you know..." For the first time ever, Peeta seemed to be at a loss for words.

I was flattered by his lack of communication skills, but nervous as well. There were some things that were better left unsaid and for the moment, what he was alluding to was one of those things, so I continued telling Peeta about Prim. "Once, when I was about fourteen, Prim had asked me if I had ever kissed a boy before."

"She did?" Peeta's eyebrows shot straight up.

"Mmm hmmm." I thought about it with fondness.

"What did you say?"

"I told her no, and that I had no interest in such things and she shouldn't either."

"What did she say when you told her that?"

"She said, 'Katniss, you need to loosen up.'" I started to laugh at the memory of Prim sitting on the edge of my bed, braiding my hair and telling me how liking boys was a natural part of life.

"I can just picture her saying that to you," Peeta laughed. "You probably just wanted to tell her to shut up and go to bed or something too, didn't you?"

"Yes!" My laughter joined his. "But I didn't. I let her finish braiding my hair and I asked her why she was asking me about boys. It turns out; my little sister had a secret crush."

"Oh really? Prim? On who?"

"Dixon Swallow."

"Dixon Swallow?" Peeta thought for a moment then burst into laughter. "Dixon Swallow! You mean Mr. Swallow the history teacher?"

"Yup." Once again I found myself laughing along with him. "She was completely enamored with him. Prim, I said. Prim, he's your teacher. And she said to me, 'but he's such a good teacher, Katniss and he seems to care about all of his students. That's what I'd like in a man. Someone who cares about others.'" My laughter faded to a sad smile at the memory of Prim's admission of love. "She got over him pretty quickly though."

"I hope so. He really wasn't much of a looker. Prim could have done so much better."

"Prim could do anything if she wanted to."

"Yeah, I think so too."

"The best thing about Prim though, was her ability to see the good in people. In anything really." I looked at Peeta and said, "You're a lot like her in that way." I meant this wholeheartedly.

"I doubt that."

"Why would you doubt that?" My brows furrowed.

"Katniss, I don't really think highly of people anymore."

"Yes you do, Peeta." I stood up from the ground. Dusted my pants off and held out a hand to him. He followed suit and I smiled softly at him. "It's just who you are. It's in your nature. You can't change that, Peeta. The Capitol tried to, and look how well that turned out for them."

"It turned out pretty well, I think." Guilt was written all over his face. "I almost killed you."

I put my hand in his and began walking back home. "But you didn't."

"Only because someone stopped me."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Still…I'm alive and correct me if I'm wrong, but I tried to kill myself after I shot Coin and you stopped me."

"I guess." He still sounded like he was in utter dismay.

"Peeta?" I stopped and looked directly into his eyes. "If I thought for a moment that you would hurt me, do you think I'd be here with you like this?"

"I don't know. Would you?" This poor boy. What the Capitol did to him made me sick.

I did have to stop and think for a moment though. When I smiled at him and said, "Yeah, I probably would." He laughs. "I can't help it! It's what we do, remember?"

He finished my statement for me. "We protect each other."

"Yup." We walked back to my house hand in hand. It was comforting, and once again I found myself grateful that Peeta never put up with my fits. He seemed to be the only one that could reach me when I was so forgone. We continued to walk side by side in complete silence. Peeta's thumb began brushing against the back of my hand, and I found that I was enjoying our physical connection quite a bit.

"You're smiling," he said with his eyes facing straight ahead.

"I am?" I hadn't realized that.

"Yeah,” Peeta smiled too.

"Good. Prim would like that." And I meant it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr my name is jamiesommers23. Thanks for reading y'all! Don't forget to drop me a line and let me know what you think.


	4. Healing Powers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peeta has slowly wormed his way back into Katniss' life and now he's struck a spark within her that is causing her to reevaluate their past relationship as well as their future one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to A for being my beta and for reading this story all over again.
> 
> This story was originally written with a T rating, but I have changed it to M and added a lot more to it. Please be prepared for some heat as we get further along in the story.
> 
> Italics = current thoughts

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Four: Healing Powers**

**The Road to Recovery**

The next morning I left the confines of my house and went to the woods where I found my bow and arrows. I was feeling spry and wicked all at the same time. A rousing combination and I had to admit, I liked it. I quickly spotted something out of the corner of my eye scurrying up a tree, and took aim. SNAP! Right through the eye. The furry little creature didn't stand a chance. I quickly retrieved my arrow, and placed my kill in my game bag as I continued on my quest. By the time I was done hunting my game bag was full of rabbits, squirrels and a badger. When I got home I could smell the food that had been left for me by Greasy Sae, but it had to wait as I cleaned and stored the game I shot, and then took a shower to wash the day's activities off of me. The instant I turned the shower on I was grateful the Capitol put them in the homes at Victor's Village. They weren't as fancy as the ones in the Capitol, but the water was always hot, and when I stepped out of the shower I felt rejuvenated. By the time I came down for dinner, I was so hungry I ate it right out of the pot. It was cold and tasted like sludge, but I didn't really care. For the first time in a long time I had a good day. No tears. No sadness. Talking about Prim yesterday with Peeta was almost cleansing for me. Slowly but surely I was beginning to think of her without remorse or sorrow. _She'd be proud of me_.

I made a cup of tea and brought it upstairs with me. As I walked to my bedroom I noticed that there was a light on in Peeta's house. It was the spare bedroom light. _I wonder if he's painting,_ and like that I'm taken back to the picture of Johanna at the Cornucopia. The swirls of color. Silver, gold and blood red. Always the blood red.

Walking towards the window I tried to put these thoughts away and remember what I felt like earlier in the day. How good it had been to let myself enjoy life for a little while. It was only a few hours, but what a few hours they were. I opened the window and let the scent of the woods mingle with the sounds of the night, and I went to sleep. With any luck my nightmares would be kept at bay.

I heard him tonight. I heard his scream. There was just one, but it was a loud one. I quickly jumped out of bed and rushed to my window. I saw that his spare bedroom light was still on so I ran as fast as my feet could take me. Down the stairs, past the living room, through the sitting area and out the door. I ran to Peeta's house. I expected to find Haymitch on my heels, but there was no sign of him, so I dug the spare key out from behind the little rock by his entry way. I fumbled with it in the darkness, but I finally got it in the doorknob. I expected to hear Peeta's cries the second I stepped into his home. Instead I heard nothing but silence. Nothing. _Was I dreaming? No. Peeta doesn't make noise when he has nightmares, but tonight I think he may have._ I ran up the stairs to his spare bedroom and I didn't see him, so I went to his bedroom and there he was. Asleep. My heart was racing as I crawled into bed next to him. _He's here and he's alright,_ I told myself. _Peeta's here and he's alright_. Then I felt his arms wrap around me, and I lay my head on his chest where I knew his heart would beat strong beneath my ear. Tonight it was beating fast too, so fast it scared me, so I jostled him until he woke up.

"Katniss?" His sleepy, thick voice spoke. "Nightmare." He went back to sleep. I listened to his heart slowing down to a strong and steady beat. Thoughts of the first time we had lay like this entered my mind. _We were in the cave. Peeta's leg had been sliced open by Cato, and he was on the verge of death._ Just thinking about it caused a chill to run down my spine. _I barely knew you then, Peeta_. A silent conversation began to play out in my head. _I didn't know how to feel about you back then. I hated you when I saw you walking through the woods with the Careers. I had no idea you were playing them...and me, I guess._ I curled my leg over his and tucked my foot beneath his calf before continuing on with my silent one sided conversation. _I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me what your plan had been. Sometimes I still wonder what you were thinking. Why would you risk your life for mine?_ That's when I remembered, _you loved me once. Do you still feel that way?_ The need to look up at him had become overwhelming. I stared at Peeta while he slept. Took in his strong jaw, his nose, which was almost as perfect as his teeth when he smiled. The way his lips parted while he slept, and suddenly I remembered what those lips felt like on mine. My fingers traced his upper lip, the well-defined arches that had pressed against my mouth a thousand times before. They puckered in his sleep and pressed a soft kiss against my fingertips. I drew my hand back and gathered the blankets up to my chin, telling myself that Peeta was fine, and that I needed to take myself home before my mind began traveling down a path I would regret, but his arm wrapped around me, his hand curled over my hip and slid its way down my back. He began rubbing at the lower part of my spine in his sleep, and I wound up staying with him until the morning, making sure I left before he woke up.

Confused about my actions the night before, I avoided Peeta that morning and hounded Haymitch instead. "Out of liquor?"

"No." My mentor loved it when I bothered him. Okay, maybe I loved it when I bothered him.

"Then why aren't you drunk? It's already noon." I found this to be quite funny, but apparently Haymitch didn't see the humor in it and told me to leave. _Fine. I'll go gather some things in the woods._ I had been hunting, but I hadn't really been gathering much lately. Spring was in full bloom so I knew I'd be able to find plenty of items for my meals.

I headed home to grab my bag, and as I was about to enter my house I saw Peeta coming around the back of his place.

"Hi," he looked nervous.

"Hi," I _was_ nervous.

We just stood there until we both started speaking at the same time.

"I was just on my way…"

"I thought I'd work on my garden…"

"Oh. You've got a garden?" _How did I not know this?_

"Yeah. Nothing big. Just some basic things. Peas, beans, tomatoes…"

"I didn't plant one this year." I hadn't thought about it. I should've, but I didn't.

"That's okay. I planted enough for all of us." By all of us I knew he meant himself, Haymitch, Greasy Sae and me.

"I thought you said it wasn't very big."

"It's not. You don't need a big garden to feed a handful of people."

"No. I guess not,” I scratched at the back of my head hoping he’d stop trying to make small talk with me; wanting desperately to avoid this awkward tension between us.

"So you're going somewhere?" He asked, making more small talk.

"Yeah. I thought I'd go and gather some stuff."

"Okay. I don't want to keep you." He began walking towards his front door, and I felt relieved that we didn't have to continue with the extremely uncomfortable verbal cat and mouse game we found ourselves in the midst of. "Katniss?"

"Yes," I turned and looked at him.

"Want to have dinner with me tonight?"

We had dinner together almost every night so I wasn't sure why he was asking. "Of course,” I answered with a confused look on my face.

"I'll cook."

"Okay.” Any excuse for me to stay out of a kitchen was fine by me. “Want me to bring anything specific back with me?"

"No. Wait. Yes. Katniss."

"What?"

"No," he chuckled. "I want you to bring back some katniss. As in the root."

"Oh. Okay." That meant a trip to the lake which actually sounded nice, but it would take me a while to get there, root up some katniss and get back so I quickly headed off. "See you later."

The walk to the lake was lovely. The weather was warm, but not overly hot and there was a slight breeze. If I had more time I would've packed a lunch and just enjoyed being out in the open, but I didn't want to disappoint Peeta. I gathered some dandelion greens, a few early sunflower seeds and a bunch of katniss. I caught a few fish while I was at the little lake and thought about making a stew with some salad on the side, but then I remembered that Peeta was cooking that night. I packed up my booty and headed home. As I walked through the forest I had a brief thought about Gale. This would have been the kind of day that he and I would've enjoyed. Knots began to form in my stomach so I pushed thoughts of Gale to the back of my mind. Of course that just caused him to be more prominent in my thinking. I needed to do something to get my head out of the spiral it was heading down. It was then that I noticed the mockingjays flitting about in the trees overhead. Black feathers so shiny they looked blue and the flash of white from underneath its wing that set them apart from their fathers the Jabberjay. Singing didn't feel right, but whistling… I could whistle to them and see if they'd respond. So I made a game of it. All the way back to the fence that separated the woods from District Twelve, I would whistle a little melody and listen to the birds repeat it back to me. Soon I forgot about the heavy bag I carried on my shoulder and my lifelong friend that caused my sister's murder.

"Fish! Wow. I didn't expect you to bring that back." Peeta seemed thrilled with the spoils of my day.

"I was at the lake anyway so I thought, why waste the trip."

"We're going to have ourselves a feast tonight Miss. Everdeen,” he said through an infectious smile.

"Good! I'm famished."

"You also smell like fish," Peeta's perfect nose crinkled. "Why don't you go and clean up while I take care of dinner?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I've got this."

"Good. I'm feeling quite grimy." Not to mention I hated cooking.

"Go ahead then and I'll make dinner."

I turned towards the stairs, but before I headed up I looked back at Peeta and wondered, _Was it just this morning that I was avoiding him?_ I could be so silly at times. Peeta and I had spent many nights together and I never felt like I had to avoid him afterward, but it had been a long time since we slept wrapped in each other’s arms. I had to wonder if he even knew that I had spent the night in his bed. A little surge of excitement shot through me when I thought of him kissing the tip of my finger while I traced the peaks of his upper lip. Had he been awake at the time or did he simply do it out of instinct, and who kisses someone in their sleep anyway?

Peeta began humming to himself as he took out pans from my pantry and I thought of Prim. _Okay, Prim. I guess I have to try and mend this part of our friendship too_.

Dinner was wonderful. Peeta roasted the katniss, pan seared the fish and made a tossed salad with the greens and seeds I had found earlier in the day. Alongside were some cheese buns and some sort of nectar he said Effie had given to him when she came to town for my wedding shoot. Peeta had kept it in his freezer, and since the Capitol left Victor’s Village unscathed during the war, everything in our freezers kept. He brought a plate over to Haymitch before we sat down to eat. Peeta had taken to feeding Haymitch quite regularly since his return. The meal itself turned out spectacular, and the table he set with the china that my mother bought after the first Games, was exquisite. Over dinner we talked about the book, and I told him that I liked the picture he drew of Prim being kissed by her goat, Lady. He told me that he had finally sketched a picture of Darius that both Greasy Sae and Haymitch agreed was flattering to the Peacekeeper and captured his sense of humor. I told him about the game I played with the mockingjays, and he told me that he'd like to try that sometime. All in all, it was a very nice dinner. We cleaned the kitchen up and had a cup of mint tea signaling the end of the day. I added a touch of sugar to mine, and Peeta drank his plain. Neither of us spoke about the night before until it was almost time for him to go home.

"It was beautiful out last night," I said. "I left my window open and I swear I could hear the animals in the woods calling out." I left it at that. I wanted him to know that I heard him in his sleep, but I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable.

"You know, Katniss, sometimes I wonder if you really did get superhuman hearing when they fixed it at the Capitol." He just looked at me with a shy grin on his face.

Though I tried not to, I couldn't help but blush. "Well, I don't know about that." I walked to the living room and I began to shut off the lights. When I went back into the kitchen and turned the last of the lights off, I found him still standing by the table just grinning at me. _Can I stay the night?_ I could hear his question even though he hadn't been speaking. In my mind I was thinking, _just ask him to stay. What can be the harm?_

He walked to the front door and stood there for, what seemed like an eternity, but it was only about ten or fifteen seconds. Then he locked the door and turned to me, searching for some kind of answer, I suppose.

My answer, as it turned out, was my back facing him and my feet walking towards my bedroom. When I heard him entering the room behind me I said to him, "It's really a lovely night. Why don't you open the window?" He always did prefer to sleep with the window open. Even in the dead of winter, during the Victory Tour, we cracked the window in my train compartment. He said he had been doing that since he was a kid. When I asked him why, he avoided the question for over an hour before answering me. Saying that he had been standing behind me during a fire drill in the second grade, and I smelled like fresh air. From that point on, Peeta slept with the window opened hoping that the scent of fresh air would bring dreams of me instead of nightmares. It hadn't dawned on me at the time that Peeta had nightmares prior to the Games, or what they were about, but tonight I wondered.

The first night I went to him, but the second night he stayed with me. We didn't speak for a while after I suggested he open the window. We simply lay down under the covers and closed our eyes until my curiosity got the best of me and I had to ask, “Peeta, what did you have nightmares about before the arena?”

“Guess they were pretty typical for the most part. I mean, everyone has nightmares, right?”

It seemed like a decent enough explanation, but I could tell there was something he wasn’t telling me. “I used to have nightmares about my dad dying before I went into the arena. I used to think they were the worst thing in the world to relive, but that was before I was in the arena.”

I lay waiting until Peeta said, “My mother used to hit me a lot.” It wasn’t a big secret that Peeta’s mom was pretty mean. Gale and I had nicknamed her the witch, but after hearing what Peeta told me I thought the nickname was too mild. “She used to use just her hands to smack me around, but the older I got the harder it was for her to hit me without hurting herself in the process so she took to using the flat wooden paddles we used to take the loaves of bread out of the oven.”

“She spanked you with them?”

He let out a small demented chuckle. “I wish they were just spankings. No. My mom didn’t believe in spankings, she believed in beatings.” I squeezed his torso as a form of comfort for both of us. “When I was…I don’t know…about three maybe? She had smacked my face so hard I had a bruise in the shape of her fingers on my cheek for a week.”

I lifted myself up so I could stare down into his face. “What did your dad do?”

“I’m not sure. I only remember her hitting me. Why she did it I have absolutely no idea. All I know is that it hurt really badly. There were other times she smacked my face, but that one time in particular really stands out. Maybe because it was the first beating I remember her giving me.” He gave his shoulder a little shrug. “She started using the bread paddle when I was in my last year of middle school. I had joined the wrestling team and started building muscle. She started to pound on me because I spilled some sugar on the floor and she let out a yelp.” He smiled a little. “I guess that’s when her, ‘it hurts me more than you’ excuse was actually the truth.” He rested his hand on my hip while the other curled around my back. “I had some pretty bad bruises from that paddle. I even hid it once, but she was pretty resourceful and used one of the rolling pins instead.” He ran his hand over a spot on his head above his ear. “Needless to say I left the paddle out for her to see after that. It was a lot easier to deal with that thing than being hit across the head with a rolling pin.” My heart broke for this sweet man that spent his life thinking his mother hated him. “Anyway, I used to have nightmares that my mother was hitting me. Sometimes I thought she’d get carried away and wind up killing me. I even wished for it.”

“Oh, Peeta,” I gasped.

“But then I started school and my father pointed out this little girl to me,” he smiled up at me and ran his hand over my hair. “She had a voice like an angel, and when she sang she took me to a safe haven where no one could hurt me.”

“Oh, Peeta,” this time when I said it my heart cracked as did my voice.

“We all have our hidden demons. As it turned out my mother was mine.”

“I’m sorry Peeta.” I tucked my head under his chin and brushed the flat of my hand back and forth over his heart. “I wish there was some way I could have helped you back then.”

“Not like it was your fault, Katniss. Besides, you did help me. You gave me something to look forward to each day.”

I lay with my head resting in the crook of his arm until sleep finally took me over and when it did the nightmares weren't far behind. I wasn't sure how long it took Peeta to wake me up that night. I was screaming. A lot. My body felt like ice and I couldn't seem to get warm enough. Peeta just kept squeezing me tighter and tighter.

“It was just a dream, Katniss. Shh,” his arms were wrapped around me. “It'll be all right. I'm here now. I'm here. Everything will be fine.” At that moment I found it hard to believe. It wasn't until I put my head against his chest and heard his heart beating in my ear, that I was finally able to go back to sleep.

I didn't know why the sound of his heartbeat lulled me to sleep, but for some reason it did. It was calming. There were nights, on the train, where I would listen to his heart and mine would eventually match his rhythm. Or that's what I told myself. It felt that way to me, but I couldn't think of being on the train with him without thinking of the arena. Whenever I thought of the arena, I'd think of the Quell. The Quell would bring on thoughts of the rebellion. I couldn't think of the rebellion without thinking of Gale, and I couldn't think of Gale without thinking of Prim's murder. It was a vicious cycle that needed to be put to rest. For the time being I pushed the thoughts of the train out of my head and just let Peeta's heartbeat guide me back into slumber.

In the morning I woke up to an empty bed. In a way I was grateful. I honestly didn't know what to say to him in the early morning light. My feelings for him had always been a mash up of truths and lies. _Or had they?_ I honestly didn't know. What I did know, was that I wasn't ready to face those types of feelings yet.

He didn't come the next night even though I wished that he had. I woke up in a cold sweat from one of the worst nightmares I'd ever had. I sat, rocking back and forth, in the middle of my bed. "I'm fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine." I was far from fine. I repeated Peeta's words to me from the night before, "It was just a dream." But it wasn't just a dream. It was a rehashing of my time in the first arena. It was Rue's death. My arrow through District One's neck. I still couldn't refer to him by his name without feeling overwhelming remorse. Worst of all it was the long night listening to Cato fighting off the mutts until there was nothing left of him but a bloody stump begging me to put him out of his misery. It was the image of Cato that had me on my feet and racing to the phone. Before I knew it I was dialing Peeta's number.

"Peeta?" It was barely a whisper.

"Katniss? Are you alright?"

"Cato…" I dropped to the floor and let the visions of Cato's death engulf me. I swear there was ice running through my veins because I couldn't stop shivering. It wasn't until I felt Peeta's arms lift me up and carry me to bed that I allowed the tears to finally spill out.

"Shhh…shhh…" His hands kept running up and down my arms as if he was trying to warm me up. "It's all over now, Katniss. It's over now."

"It'll never be over." I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. "Never."

Peeta held onto me for over an hour, stroking the hair away from my face, gently rubbing circles across my back, before I finally calmed down.

"Do you want me to make you some tea? Warm milk?" He was wiping my face with a warm cloth. "Can I get you anything?"

"No." All I wanted was to feel safe. To forget that the Games ever happened. "Can you just stay here with me for a little while?"

"Always, Katniss." He climbed into my bed and took me in his arms. It felt so remarkably good to be held by him again. "I can stay as long as you want."

"Will you talk to me?"

"Sure. About what?"

"Anything." I just needed to get my mind off of the nightmare.

"Did I ever tell you how I learned to decorate the cakes?"

I settled my head against his arm and said, "No."

"Well, I was about ten at the time. My dad had already taught me how to make a cake, which is a lot harder than you'd think, but one day he said to me, 'I'm going to teach you how to frost today.' I was pretty excited about that because I had seen my older brothers frost cakes and I knew they'd sneak fingers of frosting when he wasn't looking. So my dad sat me on the counter and showed me all of the different tools and started naming them off and what they're used for. I tried really hard to memorize the names because I was determined to do a good job."

"Did you?"

"Do a good job?"

"No, sneak some frosting?"

"As a matter of fact I did.” Peeta smiled down into my face as I looked up at him. “I did a good job too."

"I know that. I used to take Prim to look at the cakes through the window. Though I didn't know you decorated them back then."

"I know. I used to stand behind the counter and sneak peeks at the two of you,” he admitted bashfully.

"I didn't know that."

"Why would you? I was trying to hide."

"I wish you didn't. I wish you had talked to me."

"Do you think you would've talked back?"

I had to think about this. "I don't know." If it were today. If he had tried to talk to me today the answer would be yes, but back then… "Probably not."

"That's what I thought." He swept his finger down my cheek and a shiver ran down my spine again, only this time it hadn't been a result of a nightmare.

"Finish telling me about the cakes." The room was dark, but the moon was bright enough to let me make out the features of Peeta's face, and his eyes seemed to glisten as he spoke. They drew me in along with the mellow tone in his voice.

"My dad showed me how to put a light seal on the cakes and told me how important it was to let that dry."

"You have to seal a cake?" I'd never heard of such a thing.

"Yup. Otherwise when you try to frost it the cake could crumble." I had learned a lot about cakes during this conversation.

"So how do you seal a cake?"

"You brush it with a little bit of sugar water and let it dry, and then you put a very thin coating of icing on it."

"And then you frost it?"

"And then you frost it." He smiled down at me and gave me a squeeze. It made me feel like I was a child again. "Now you'd think frosting a cake would be easy, but it's not."

I didn't know why it would be hard until he described the process to me. Making sure the sides were even. That the top was completely level and that there were even amounts of the confection spread throughout the entire dessert so that the layers didn't teeter to one side.

"The first time I frosted a cake it took me almost three hours to get it right. I had to keep scraping the frosting off and reapplying it. My mother was pretty mad at me, but my dad told her that I had to learn the trade so she really couldn't argue with him."

"So did you decorate it after that?"

"No. My dad put the cake away and told me that I needed to think about the kind of decorations I thought should go on the cake. He said 'draw some pictures of things you think would look pretty on it, Peeta.' So that night I took my paper and pencils and I swear, Katniss I must have sat in my room for over an hour trying to decide what would look pretty on a cake. Pretty wasn't really my strong suit."

"What did you decide on?"

"It was fall, so I thought I'd do something related to the season. I began sketching pictures of leaves. Maple, oak, little pine trees… Then I thought of our apple tree and I drew a picture of an apple, but it didn't look right to me, so the next morning I woke up at the crack of dawn and went outside to study an apple. I started to draw it and when I was done I took my pictures to my dad and said, 'this is what I want to put on the cake.'"

"Did he like the idea?"

"He must have because he taught me how to fill up a pastry bag and how to use the different tips…"

"Tips?"

"Yeah. You have to put these metal tips on the pastry bag and there are different holes at the end of them. When you squeeze the bag it makes a shape."

"Like a leaf?"

"Like a leaf.” Peeta snuggled down closer to me, and I found myself moving upward in order to get closer to him. “But there weren't any pastry tips that would form the shape of an apple, so I had to do that one on my own. My father showed me how to do it on a pan and then I practiced. When he was satisfied with it, he let me put it on the cake. When I was done the sides of the cake were covered in autumn colored leaves and I placed apples around the cake in different spots. Then my dad asked me what he should write on it and I had no clue. So right in the center of the cake my father wrote out, 'Fall in Love.'"

"Oh, I like that."

"Yeah, I did too."

"What did your mom think?"

"She actually complimented me on it, but she thought my dad's fall in love thing was stupid. She didn't think anyone would buy it because of what it said."

"Did somebody buy it?"

"Nope. My dad took it upstairs with us that night and told my mom that we made the cake for her. Though I had a sneaky suspicion it was more for him and me."

"So you got to eat it?" My mouth began to water at the thought of the sugary treat which was so rare to those of us raised in the Seam.

"Yup. That was the only cake I ever remember eating as a kid."

"I always thought that you got to eat all of that stuff you had in the bakery." I found out during the first Games that this wasn't the way of it, but I had no clue about his life as a child. I just assumed it was better than mine.

"I wish."

"What was it like for you growing up? The food I mean. Did you always have enough?"

"Not always. I lived in a house with four men so is there ever enough food?" He joked, but I could hear the sadness in his voice.

"We don't have to talk about this, Peeta."

"No, I don't mind. It actually helps me to remember."

"We didn't have enough food after my father died. Not until I got some bread from a very sweet boy." I hugged his torso and said, "Thank you for that, Peeta."

"You're welcome, Katniss." He yawned and told me. "I would've given you the world if I could."

I whispered, "I know." I brushed my hand across his heart and held it there.

We were silent for a little while. Just lying there. Peeta looking at the shadows on the ceiling the moonlight had created, and me looking at Peeta. I saw a tiny smile slowly blooming across his face right before he said to me, “Did you know we Mellarks were all named after bread?”

“I thought maybe you and Whytte were, but not Miche.” I rested comfortably against Peeta's shoulder. “And I have no clue what your father's first name was other than mister.” Peeta's chuckle caused his chest to rumble, and I had to admit, it felt pretty good being able to bring a smile to his face.

“My dad's name is...was,” he corrected himself, “Bing.” Peeta looked down at me; I guessed it was to see my reaction to such a strange name.

“Why Bing?”

“I already told you, because it's a tradition in the Mellark family to name their kids after bread. Bing is sort of like flat bread. It's usually made on a pan, but some types can be baked.”

“Did you sell it at the bakery?” I didn’t ever recall seeing a loaf of bread called Bing when I went to his family's shop.

“No. There really wasn't a big demand for it in Twelve.”

“What kind of bread is Miche?” His eldest brother's name was Whytte, and that was pretty self-explanatory, but I had never heard of a loaf of Miche.

Peeta let out another chuckle. “Miche isn't bread. It actually refers to the shape of a loaf. It means, round like a baby's bottom.”

I began to picture a baby's butt and thought of Peeta's brother Miche. He and his friends were kind of jerks when we went to school, always tormenting the younger kids. “Your parents must have been fortune tellers, Peeta.”

He knit his brows together. “Why do you say that?”

“Because Miche was kind of an ass.” I knew I shouldn't have said something degrading about his brother since he was dead and all, but it was the truth. Fortunately Peeta saw the humor in my analogy and let out a loud laugh.

“Yeah he was,” Peeta said when his laughter finally died down.

"Peeta. Thank you for coming here tonight."

"You don't need to thank me, Katniss." His fingers drew patterns on my arm and caused me to quiver.

"Goodnight, Peeta." My eyelids began to feel heavy, and the nightmares had temporarily been put to rest.

"Goodnight, Katniss." I felt something warm brush up against my hair. I wasn't sure if he kissed my head or if it was just the warmth of his breath, but whatever it was felt comforting.

"Don't leave without waking me."

We fell asleep in each other's arms, listening to the sounds of the night. Crickets chirped a lullaby as we slept a dreamless sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to follow me on tumblr. My screen name is jamiesommers23. And if you want to check out my other stories go to: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/183463/Jamie-Sommers there is a version of this story on there, but it does not have the additions and will not have the lemons, though I am thinking about posting a different rating one on there. If you don't want the story ruined, don't read ahead. If ya wanna tell me how you feel about the story, g'head. If not, that's okay too.
> 
> Thanks again,
> 
> J


	5. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss has seen the results of the torture Peeta had gone through while being held at the Capitol when attempting to sketch Darius, but in this chapter she sees how bad Peeta truly is. What will she do and will she forgive him for keeping something so serious from her when she's been trying to be open with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everything A. you are more than just a beta, you are a friend, so thanks for being there.

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Five: Flashback**

**The Road to Recovery**

The sky was dark for an early spring evening, almost black. The air was thick with humidity. I sat in my living room writing about Prim in the book while Haymitch and Peeta played chess. The dinner dishes had just been washed and put away. It had been a quiet day. Peaceful. I was completely taken aback when the chessboard flew across the room and smacked into the wall.

Peeta gripped the arm of the rocker so tightly that his knuckles were white. Haymitch was standing over him and yelling at me to leave the room. Of course I didn't listen. I couldn't. I was in complete shock.  _What’s going on?_

"Katniss! Get out of here!" Haymitch just kept yelling at me until I finally paid attention to him.

"Why?" My voice was trembling with fear.

"I can't hold him down for too much longer." Haymitch had his knee across Peeta's legs pinning them to the chair.

Without thinking I jumped up and ran to Peeta in an attempt to pull Haymitch off of him. "Stop it! You're hurting him!" Now Haymitch had to battle both Peeta and myself. He lost.

Peeta flung Haymitch onto the ground and stood up so fast the breath caught in my throat. "Leave, Katniss!" He didn't look at me. He just commanded me to go.

"NO!" I ran up to him and put my hands on his wrists. I would've held his hands but they were clenched into balls. "I'm not leaving."

Haymitch got up and tried to pull me off of him again, but I was younger and quicker than him so the elbow I gave him in the gut took him down pretty quickly.

Peeta lifted his face to mine and his eyes bore right through me. "I… might…hurt… you." He was struggling to get each word out.

"I don't care. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you." I pulled him into me, as close as I could, and I started to whisper in his ear. "I won't leave you, Peet,a but I need you to stay with me. Just stay here with me. You can do this. Just listen to my voice. Please, Peeta. Please." I was begging him as gently as I could. "Don't go. Don't leave me." I kissed his cheek and put my forehead against his chin. "Peeta, I need you. I need you." It was sixty, maybe ninety seconds of pure hell. Peeta fighting off the demons the Capitol put in his head while I tried to guide him back home with my voice. When his fists started to relax I loosened up the grip I had on his wrists, but never stopped whispering to him. "We can get through this, Peeta. Just take a few breaths and it'll be over." When his hands opened up I threaded my fingers though his and laid my head against his shoulder. Relief washed over me. He was back. Peeta and I just stood there. Unmoving. While Haymitch watched us from his spot on the floor.

The flash of lightening outside brought us all back from our stupor.

Haymitch stood up and said he needed a drink.

Peeta busied himself with picking up the chess pieces and mumbled an apology, but for some reason his voice sounded sluggish and groggy.

While I stood in the middle of my living room, wondering how long these two men had been keeping this secret from me. I felt anger bubbling up in the back of my mind, and I knew it would have to wait to be addressed. Peeta wasn't strong enough for that, but when he was, he would get an earful from me. So would Haymitch. I had no clue how long these severe flashbacks had been going on, but it was obvious from Haymitch's reaction that he'd been dealing with them for a while.

After the room had been put back in order Peeta left for home. "I should go now before the rain gets too heavy,” his voice was still somewhat sluggish.

"Sure," I was still upset that he and Haymitch had chosen to keep the severity of his flashbacks from me, but I was more worried about Peeta being alone. "You don't have to leave though."

"No. I need to paint." With that he rushed from my house and ran through the light raindrops which had begun to fall.

When Haymitch tried to follow, claiming that his flask was empty, I stopped him dead in his tracks. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going home, sweetheart. Like I said, I need a drink."

"I don't think so."

"Think you can stop me?"

"I took you down before and I can do it again so don't push me, Haymitch!" I slammed my front door closed and spun on my heels to accost Haymitch face to face. "You want to tell me how long that's been going on?"

With a disgruntled look on his face, Haymitch answered. "You know how long, Katniss." Since the Capitol hijacked him.

"That's not what I mean and you know it, Haymitch!" Screaming at him felt really good.

"I'm not going to stand here and get yelled at by…"

"Oh, you  _are_  going to stand here, and you  _are_  going to get yelled at!"

"What good do you think that's going to do the boy?"

"Don't act like you're worried about Peeta. If you were then you would've told me about this."

"It wasn't my place to tell."

"So he's the one that wanted to keep it from me?" I pointed towards Peeta's house in an accusing manor.

Haymitch answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Maybe I should go over there and yell at him then? Think I'd get some answers then?" There was no way I would yell at Peeta after what happened in my living room, but Haymitch didn't know that.

"Go ahead. Go talk to the boy. See where it gets you."

"I'd rather you just tell me." Haymitch didn't fall for my bluff. God how he frustrated me.

"Like I said, not my place to say." With that he turned and started to walk out the door.

_No. He can't leave like this._  I needed answers. "Wait. Please." It took a lot to say please, but I had to find out what was going on with Peeta and how bad the flashbacks were. "Haymitch, what if it happens while he and I are alone? Then what?"

"Well you seem to help him out a hell of a lot better than I ever could."

"How often do you have to try to help him?"

"Katniss," he said this as a warning, but I refused to give up.

"Haymitch, I can't help him if I don't know what's going on."

"You know sweetheart, I actually agree with you, but he's the one that wanted to keep it private. So take it up with him." He stepped out into the rain then turned and said, "Give him a few minutes before you go over there. Let him get himself together."

I watched the clock ticking away like a hawk. When five minutes had passed I ran to Peeta's house, uncertain if he'd even let me in. By that time the rain was coming down in buckets and the walk…run to Peeta's saturated me. I tried the knob, but the door was locked so I started pounding on it. If he had come home to paint then he'd be upstairs and I wanted him to hear me. The door opened within a few seconds of my knock. Obviously he hadn't been painting.

"Katniss!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his house. I noticed the way his eyes had sunk into his head, and thought for a moment that I may have woken him up. "What are you doing out in this weather? Are you crazy?"

My clothes were soaked through to my skin. "Legally, I think I'm classified as mentally disoriented." My teeth started to chatter from the cold.

"Let me get you something dry to put on. Come in here."

I followed him to his upstairs bathroom where he preceded to hand me a towel for my hair and then started drying off my back. When I turned around and faced him he handed me the towel and said, "I'll grab you some clothes."

Drying myself off while wearing wet clothes was futile so I waited for Peeta to bring me something dry to put on.

"I've got a long shirt and some pants, but I don't know it the pants will fit." He handed the pile to me and closed the door behind him.

I quickly stripped of my wet clothing, dried myself off and put on Peeta's shirt. The pants were too big so I left them off. Fortunately the shirt covered me to the middle of my thighs, but I still felt naked. I threw my wet garments over a towel rack when I heard a loud crack outside and then the power went out. I stood in complete darkness, still shivering from the cold rain, in Peeta's bathroom.

"Katniss," he called out. "Don't move. I'll be right there." Within a minute Peeta stood at the doorway, his face illuminated by a candle. "The power went out."

"Probably from the storm."  _Why do I feel so vulnerable?_

"Here," he handed me the candle. "Take this. I have more in the bedroom."

I followed him to his room, lighting a path for us both. When he lit another candle he turned and just stared at me.

We were about five feet apart, but it felt like the room was closing in on me.

"You're cold, Katniss. Come in here." He set his candle down and lifted a blanket off of his bed. He walked over to me. Took the candle out of my hand and set it down next to his on the nightstand, then wrapped the blanket around me. "Better?"

I nodded my head, yes. I was terrified that if I tried to speak, my teeth would start to chatter, and not from the cold.

"Come on." He led me to his bed and sat me on the edge. "Why don't you sit here and I'll make you some tea."

"Um...umkay,” Tea sounded nice, but my stammering on the other hand sounded moronic.

He picked up a candle and rushed out of his room while I sat there just looking out the window at the storm. Every time the lightening would split the sky, I swear I could feel the electricity of it running through me. This whole situation was uncomfortable for me. Confronting Peeta had been my intention for this visit, but now I was sitting in a dark room, practically naked, and I no longer felt the anger that I had when talking with Haymitch. Then again, no one could get me as angry as Haymitch could.

"I don't have tea." Peeta stood in his doorway with a cup of something in his hand. "But I had milk. So I warmed it up for you."

"Thank you." I sipped the warm milk and tasted the honey and spice the Capitol attendant added to the drink on our last train ride.

"I knew you liked it that way," he gestured to the cup with his chin. "I hope you don't mind that I did that."

"No." It was a sweet gesture and I didn't mind at all.

Unsure of what to say I just sat and sipped my milk while Peeta stood in the doorway holding his candle. Neither of us moved until I had emptied my cup.

"Want another?" Peeta asked.

"No thank you." He walked to me and took the empty mug from my hand, sitting it on the nightstand next to the candle.

"Why did you come here, Katniss?" He didn't look at me.

"We needed to talk."  _Please look at me, Peeta_.

"There's nothing to talk about." He turned his back to me and began walking out of the room. "I'll sleep on the sofa."

"No!"  _Move, Katniss. Get up and pull him here if you have to._  Unfortunately I was frozen in my spot at the edge of the bed.

"It's for the best."

"Don't. Don't tell me what's best for me, okay?"

"You don't understand, Katniss." Finally he turned and looked at me. "I could hurt you."

"I don't believe that." And I didn't. "Peeta. Please. Come here. Sit with me."

I scooted myself to the top of the bed and sat with my legs crossed. When he followed me and took up a mirror image I was grateful.  _Now let's get to the bottom of this_.

"Why didn't you tell me about…" I wasn't sure what to call his episodes.

"Me freaking out?"

"That's not what I would call it, but yes. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"You already had so much you were trying to deal with, Katniss. You didn't need me to add anything to your worries."

"So you thought you could just hide it?"

"No. I figured you'd find out eventually. Maybe Haymitch would tell you or something."

"Haymitch is useless. He wouldn't say a word to me." I was still pretty pissed off about this fact.

"I asked him not to."

"But why?"

"Because…I was afraid…"

I reached out and took his hand in mine. "What were you afraid of?"

He squeezed my hand in his and said, "The monster that you saw today."

"Monster?" I let out a burst of air somewhere between a laugh and frustration. "That was no monster."

"Yes, Katniss. Don't you see?" His voice was pleading with me. "When that happens to me…I don't know what I'll do to you."

"You won't do anything to me."

"How do you know that?" His voice began to rise. "How do you know?"

"Because…."  _You love me_ , I thought...hoped, but I failed to say it. Instead I mumbled, "I just know."

"Well I'm glad you know, because I'm not too sure sometimes."

We sat quietly for a minute and then I asked him, "How often has this happened?"

"It varies." Peeta's head rested on our hands then he lifted it up and answered. "When I tried to draw Darius the first time, it happened a lot. That outburst I had when you followed me back home was just the tip of the iceberg. Haymitch helped me through it."

"Yes. Haymitch." This rubbed me the wrong way. "Why didn't you come to me? I could've helped you through it."

"I didn't know what I would do to you, Katniss. I was sure that you were the reason Darius was tortured." The pain in his voice cut through me.

I was. I was the reason a lot of people were killed and tortured. I was the reason Peeta was still being tortured, but I refused to let the Capitol continue to win. "I want you to tell me from now on. I want to help you." I squeezed his hands in my own.

"I'm not sure about that, Katniss."

"Well I am!" I shouted.

"You don't know what you're asking."

"Yes, I do."

"What happens if I do something to you? I'd never forgive myself." His voice was breaking up and his eyes began filling with tears.

"You didn't do anything to me today, and I helped you through it." I ran my hand across his cheek and smiled sadly into his eyes.

"But Haymitch was there to…"

"Haymitch was a useless lump. One elbow to the gut and he was on the floor."

Peeta's eyes picked up a bit. "Is that why he was lying there? I thought I did that to him."

"Nope. It was me." I was very proud of this fact.

"You shouldn't have done that. What if you needed him to protect you?"

"Will you stop it!" I was totally frustrated with this whole song and dance. "I am not fragile. I am not going to break if you touch me. I can handle it." I could tell I was getting nowhere with him so I decided to use another tactic. "We're going to play a game."

Obviously Peeta hadn't expected me to suggest playing a game in the middle of this conversation. "I don't want to play a game."

"Too bad. We're playing anyway." I scooted closer to him until our knees were touching and said, "It's called Real or Not Real."

"Katniss, I don't need to play that anymore. I know what's real and what's not...for the most part."

"Fine. Then you'll be good at this game. Ready?"

"I don't want to play."

"Well, we're playing." I settled myself in and said, "There's just one thing though. I'll be asking the questions and you'll be telling me if it's real or not real."

He questioned this with his eyes, but I didn't stop.

"On our first day of school I sang the valley song and you fell in love with me. Real or not real?" I was holding my breath.

His shoulders slumped as he choked out, "Real."

"You told me that story while we were in the first arena?"

"Real." His fingers were playing with the hem of my shirt and goosebumps broke out along my bare legs.

The candlelight seemed to accentuate his eyelashes when he blinked. It was very distracting. "You joined the Careers in the first arena to protect me?"

"Real."

"You stayed awake all night…" the memory of this caused me to catch my breath. "You stayed awake all night under the tracker jacker tree to make sure I escaped the Careers?"

He kissed our joined hands. "Real."

"You volunteered for the Quell to keep me safe?" The question unexpectedly came out as a whisper.

"Real." He whispered back.

I lifted his hand to my face and kissed his wrist. "You'd die for me?" My eyes met his and I knew the answer as I always did.

"Real."

We were on our knees and holding each other instantly. His lips kissing the curve between my shoulder and my neck. My kiss on his ear as I whispered. "You'd never hurt me, Peeta. Never."

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I'm so sorry." He was squeezing me so tight, I was afraid he'd feel the rapid beating of my heart.

"Don't," I pulled back far enough to see his face. "Don't you ever apologize for what the Capitol did to you. It's not your fault. None of it is. Just don't keep things from me anymore, okay?"

He nodded and we held onto each other until our desperate clinging turned into gentle caresses. His hands slowly trailed up my back, down my hips, up my arms. And I couldn't stop touching his hair. I just kept threading my fingers through it. Until finally Peeta pulled away. His face was slightly flushed and for a moment I thought this was it, this was when he was going to actually kiss me. We had  shared kisses before, but they were mostly staged... _I think_. But Peeta didn't kiss me. Not on my lips anyway. He pulled the hands, that were still dragging paths down the back of his scalp, away and placed a tender kiss upon in the inside wrist of each one.  _Good God does he know how to kiss. Even his pecks shake my knees._

"It's late."

"Yeah."  _I don't really care_. 

"We should get some sleep."

_I don't want to slee_ p. "Okay."

"Should I…" He cleared his throat. "Should I sleep downstairs?"

"No."  _Dear, God. No._

We lay down next to each other when I looked up at him and said, "Peeta. We can get through this together."

"Yeah." He looked down at me and kissed my forehead. "We can get through anything together."

I believed this too. With all my heart.

 

 

  **The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Five: Flashback**

**The Road to Recovery**

The sky was dark for an early spring evening, almost black. The air was thick with humidity. I sat in my living room writing about Prim in the book while Haymitch and Peeta played chess. The dinner dishes had just been washed and put away. It had been a quiet day. Peaceful. I was completely taken aback when the chessboard flew across the room and smacked into the wall.

Peeta gripped the arm of the rocker so tightly that his knuckles were white. Haymitch was standing over him and yelling at me to leave the room. Of course I didn't listen. I couldn't. I was in complete shock.  _What’s going on?_

"Katniss! Get out of here!" Haymitch just kept yelling at me until I finally paid attention to him.

"Why?" My voice was trembling with fear.

"I can't hold him down for too much longer." Haymitch had his knee across Peeta's legs pinning them to the chair.

Without thinking I jumped up and ran to Peeta in an attempt to pull Haymitch off of him. "Stop it! You're hurting him!" Now Haymitch had to battle both Peeta and myself. He lost.

Peeta flung Haymitch onto the ground and stood up so fast the breath caught in my throat. "Leave, Katniss!" He didn't look at me. He just commanded me to go.

"NO!" I ran up to him and put my hands on his wrists. I would've held his hands but they were clenched into balls. "I'm not leaving."

Haymitch got up and tried to pull me off of him again, but I was younger and quicker than him so the elbow I gave him in the gut took him down pretty quickly.

Peeta lifted his face to mine and his eyes bore right through me. "I… might…hurt… you." He was struggling to get each word out.

"I don't care. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you." I pulled him into me, as close as I could, and I started to whisper in his ear. "I won't leave you, Peet,a but I need you to stay with me. Just stay here with me. You can do this. Just listen to my voice. Please, Peeta. Please." I was begging him as gently as I could. "Don't go. Don't leave me." I kissed his cheek and put my forehead against his chin. "Peeta, I need you. I need you." It was sixty, maybe ninety seconds of pure hell. Peeta fighting off the demons the Capitol put in his head while I tried to guide him back home with my voice. When his fists started to relax I loosened up the grip I had on his wrists, but never stopped whispering to him. "We can get through this, Peeta. Just take a few breaths and it'll be over." When his hands opened up I threaded my fingers though his and laid my head against his shoulder. Relief washed over me. He was back. Peeta and I just stood there. Unmoving. While Haymitch watched us from his spot on the floor.

The flash of lightening outside brought us all back from our stupor.

Haymitch stood up and said he needed a drink.

Peeta busied himself with picking up the chess pieces and mumbled an apology, but for some reason his voice sounded sluggish and groggy.

While I stood in the middle of my living room, wondering how long these two men had been keeping this secret from me. I felt anger bubbling up in the back of my mind, and I knew it would have to wait to be addressed. Peeta wasn't strong enough for that, but when he was, he would get an earful from me. So would Haymitch. I had no clue how long these severe flashbacks had been going on, but it was obvious from Haymitch's reaction that he'd been dealing with them for a while.

After the room had been put back in order Peeta left for home. "I should go now before the rain gets too heavy,” his voice was still somewhat sluggish.

"Sure," I was still upset that he and Haymitch had chosen to keep the severity of his flashbacks from me, but I was more worried about Peeta being alone. "You don't have to leave though."

"No. I need to paint." With that he rushed from my house and ran through the light raindrops which had begun to fall.

When Haymitch tried to follow, claiming that his flask was empty, I stopped him dead in his tracks. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going home, sweetheart. Like I said, I need a drink."

"I don't think so."

"Think you can stop me?"

"I took you down before and I can do it again so don't push me, Haymitch!" I slammed my front door closed and spun on my heels to accost Haymitch face to face. "You want to tell me how long that's been going on?"

With a disgruntled look on his face, Haymitch answered. "You know how long, Katniss." Since the Capitol hijacked him.

"That's not what I mean and you know it, Haymitch!" Screaming at him felt really good.

"I'm not going to stand here and get yelled at by…"

"Oh, you  _are_  going to stand here, and you  _are_  going to get yelled at!"

"What good do you think that's going to do the boy?"

"Don't act like you're worried about Peeta. If you were then you would've told me about this."

"It wasn't my place to tell."

"So he's the one that wanted to keep it from me?" I pointed towards Peeta's house in an accusing manor.

Haymitch answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Maybe I should go over there and yell at him then? Think I'd get some answers then?" There was no way I would yell at Peeta after what happened in my living room, but Haymitch didn't know that.

"Go ahead. Go talk to the boy. See where it gets you."

"I'd rather you just tell me." Haymitch didn't fall for my bluff. God how he frustrated me.

"Like I said, not my place to say." With that he turned and started to walk out the door.

_No. He can't leave like this._  I needed answers. "Wait. Please." It took a lot to say please, but I had to find out what was going on with Peeta and how bad the flashbacks were. "Haymitch, what if it happens while he and I are alone? Then what?"

"Well you seem to help him out a hell of a lot better than I ever could."

"How often do you have to try to help him?"

"Katniss," he said this as a warning, but I refused to give up.

"Haymitch, I can't help him if I don't know what's going on."

"You know sweetheart, I actually agree with you, but he's the one that wanted to keep it private. So take it up with him." He stepped out into the rain then turned and said, "Give him a few minutes before you go over there. Let him get himself together."

I watched the clock ticking away like a hawk. When five minutes had passed I ran to Peeta's house, uncertain if he'd even let me in. By that time the rain was coming down in buckets and the walk…run to Peeta's saturated me. I tried the knob, but the door was locked so I started pounding on it. If he had come home to paint then he'd be upstairs and I wanted him to hear me. The door opened within a few seconds of my knock. Obviously he hadn't been painting.

"Katniss!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his house. I noticed the way his eyes had sunk into his head, and thought for a moment that I may have woken him up. "What are you doing out in this weather? Are you crazy?"

My clothes were soaked through to my skin. "Legally, I think I'm classified as mentally disoriented." My teeth started to chatter from the cold.

"Let me get you something dry to put on. Come in here."

I followed him to his upstairs bathroom where he preceded to hand me a towel for my hair and then started drying off my back. When I turned around and faced him he handed me the towel and said, "I'll grab you some clothes."

Drying myself off while wearing wet clothes was futile so I waited for Peeta to bring me something dry to put on.

"I've got a long shirt and some pants, but I don't know it the pants will fit." He handed the pile to me and closed the door behind him.

I quickly stripped of my wet clothing, dried myself off and put on Peeta's shirt. The pants were too big so I left them off. Fortunately the shirt covered me to the middle of my thighs, but I still felt naked. I threw my wet garments over a towel rack when I heard a loud crack outside and then the power went out. I stood in complete darkness, still shivering from the cold rain, in Peeta's bathroom.

"Katniss," he called out. "Don't move. I'll be right there." Within a minute Peeta stood at the doorway, his face illuminated by a candle. "The power went out."

"Probably from the storm."  _Why do I feel so vulnerable?_

"Here," he handed me the candle. "Take this. I have more in the bedroom."

I followed him to his room, lighting a path for us both. When he lit another candle he turned and just stared at me.

We were about five feet apart, but it felt like the room was closing in on me.

"You're cold, Katniss. Come in here." He set his candle down and lifted a blanket off of his bed. He walked over to me. Took the candle out of my hand and set it down next to his on the nightstand, then wrapped the blanket around me. "Better?"

I nodded my head, yes. I was terrified that if I tried to speak, my teeth would start to chatter, and not from the cold.

"Come on." He led me to his bed and sat me on the edge. "Why don't you sit here and I'll make you some tea."

"Um...umkay,” Tea sounded nice, but my stammering on the other hand sounded moronic.

He picked up a candle and rushed out of his room while I sat there just looking out the window at the storm. Every time the lightening would split the sky, I swear I could feel the electricity of it running through me. This whole situation was uncomfortable for me. Confronting Peeta had been my intention for this visit, but now I was sitting in a dark room, practically naked, and I no longer felt the anger that I had when talking with Haymitch. Then again, no one could get me as angry as Haymitch could.

"I don't have tea." Peeta stood in his doorway with a cup of something in his hand. "But I had milk. So I warmed it up for you."

"Thank you." I sipped the warm milk and tasted the honey and spice the Capitol attendant added to the drink on our last train ride.

"I knew you liked it that way," he gestured to the cup with his chin. "I hope you don't mind that I did that."

"No." It was a sweet gesture and I didn't mind at all.

Unsure of what to say I just sat and sipped my milk while Peeta stood in the doorway holding his candle. Neither of us moved until I had emptied my cup.

"Want another?" Peeta asked.

"No thank you." He walked to me and took the empty mug from my hand, sitting it on the nightstand next to the candle.

"Why did you come here, Katniss?" He didn't look at me.

"We needed to talk."  _Please look at me, Peeta_.

"There's nothing to talk about." He turned his back to me and began walking out of the room. "I'll sleep on the sofa."

"No!"  _Move, Katniss. Get up and pull him here if you have to._  Unfortunately I was frozen in my spot at the edge of the bed.

"It's for the best."

"Don't. Don't tell me what's best for me, okay?"

"You don't understand, Katniss." Finally he turned and looked at me. "I could hurt you."

"I don't believe that." And I didn't. "Peeta. Please. Come here. Sit with me."

I scooted myself to the top of the bed and sat with my legs crossed. When he followed me and took up a mirror image I was grateful.  _Now let's get to the bottom of this_.

"Why didn't you tell me about…" I wasn't sure what to call his episodes.

"Me freaking out?"

"That's not what I would call it, but yes. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"You already had so much you were trying to deal with, Katniss. You didn't need me to add anything to your worries."

"So you thought you could just hide it?"

"No. I figured you'd find out eventually. Maybe Haymitch would tell you or something."

"Haymitch is useless. He wouldn't say a word to me." I was still pretty pissed off about this fact.

"I asked him not to."

"But why?"

"Because…I was afraid…"

I reached out and took his hand in mine. "What were you afraid of?"

He squeezed my hand in his and said, "The monster that you saw today."

"Monster?" I let out a burst of air somewhere between a laugh and frustration. "That was no monster."

"Yes, Katniss. Don't you see?" His voice was pleading with me. "When that happens to me…I don't know what I'll do to you."

"You won't do anything to me."

"How do you know that?" His voice began to rise. "How do you know?"

"Because…."  _You love me_ , I thought...hoped, but I failed to say it. Instead I mumbled, "I just know."

"Well I'm glad you know, because I'm not too sure sometimes."

We sat quietly for a minute and then I asked him, "How often has this happened?"

"It varies." Peeta's head rested on our hands then he lifted it up and answered. "When I tried to draw Darius the first time, it happened a lot. That outburst I had when you followed me back home was just the tip of the iceberg. Haymitch helped me through it."

"Yes. Haymitch." This rubbed me the wrong way. "Why didn't you come to me? I could've helped you through it."

"I didn't know what I would do to you, Katniss. I was sure that you were the reason Darius was tortured." The pain in his voice cut through me.

I was. I was the reason a lot of people were killed and tortured. I was the reason Peeta was still being tortured, but I refused to let the Capitol continue to win. "I want you to tell me from now on. I want to help you." I squeezed his hands in my own.

"I'm not sure about that, Katniss."

"Well I am!" I shouted.

"You don't know what you're asking."

"Yes, I do."

"What happens if I do something to you? I'd never forgive myself." His voice was breaking up and his eyes began filling with tears.

"You didn't do anything to me today, and I helped you through it." I ran my hand across his cheek and smiled sadly into his eyes.

"But Haymitch was there to…"

"Haymitch was a useless lump. One elbow to the gut and he was on the floor."

Peeta's eyes picked up a bit. "Is that why he was lying there? I thought I did that to him."

"Nope. It was me." I was very proud of this fact.

"You shouldn't have done that. What if you needed him to protect you?"

"Will you stop it!" I was totally frustrated with this whole song and dance. "I am not fragile. I am not going to break if you touch me. I can handle it." I could tell I was getting nowhere with him so I decided to use another tactic. "We're going to play a game."

Obviously Peeta hadn't expected me to suggest playing a game in the middle of this conversation. "I don't want to play a game."

"Too bad. We're playing anyway." I scooted closer to him until our knees were touching and said, "It's called Real or Not Real."

"Katniss, I don't need to play that anymore. I know what's real and what's not...for the most part."

"Fine. Then you'll be good at this game. Ready?"

"I don't want to play."

"Well, we're playing." I settled myself in and said, "There's just one thing though. I'll be asking the questions and you'll be telling me if it's real or not real."

He questioned this with his eyes, but I didn't stop.

"On our first day of school I sang the valley song and you fell in love with me. Real or not real?" I was holding my breath.

His shoulders slumped as he choked out, "Real."

"You told me that story while we were in the first arena?"

"Real." His fingers were playing with the hem of my shirt and goosebumps broke out along my bare legs.

The candlelight seemed to accentuate his eyelashes when he blinked. It was very distracting. "You joined the Careers in the first arena to protect me?"

"Real."

"You stayed awake all night…" the memory of this caused me to catch my breath. "You stayed awake all night under the tracker jacker tree to make sure I escaped the Careers?"

He kissed our joined hands. "Real."

"You volunteered for the Quell to keep me safe?" The question unexpectedly came out as a whisper.

"Real." He whispered back.

I lifted his hand to my face and kissed his wrist. "You'd die for me?" My eyes met his and I knew the answer as I always did.

"Real."

We were on our knees and holding each other instantly. His lips kissing the curve between my shoulder and my neck. My kiss on his ear as I whispered. "You'd never hurt me, Peeta. Never."

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I'm so sorry." He was squeezing me so tight, I was afraid he'd feel the rapid beating of my heart.

"Don't," I pulled back far enough to see his face. "Don't you ever apologize for what the Capitol did to you. It's not your fault. None of it is. Just don't keep things from me anymore, okay?"

He nodded and we held onto each other until our desperate clinging turned into gentle caresses. His hands slowly trailed up my back, down my hips, up my arms. And I couldn't stop touching his hair. I just kept threading my fingers through it. Until finally Peeta pulled away. His face was slightly flushed and for a moment I thought this was it, this was when he was going to actually kiss me. We had  shared kisses before, but they were mostly staged... _I think_. But Peeta didn't kiss me. Not on my lips anyway. He pulled the hands, that were still dragging paths down the back of his scalp, away and placed a tender kiss upon in the inside wrist of each one.  _Good God does he know how to kiss. Even his pecks shake my knees._

"It's late."

"Yeah."  _I don't really care_. 

"We should get some sleep."

_I don't want to slee_ p. "Okay."

"Should I…" He cleared his throat. "Should I sleep downstairs?"

"No."  _Dear, God. No._

We lay down next to each other when I looked up at him and said, "Peeta. We can get through this together."

"Yeah." He looked down at me and kissed my forehead. "We can get through anything together."

I believed this too. With all my heart.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop by my tumblr page I'm jamiesommers23 you can also check out some of my other stories on ff.net.   
> If you like what my stuff feel free to tell me, if not, that's okay too.


	6. Reaping Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss and Peeta have a very difficult time getting through the first Reaping Day after the rebellion, but something unexpected happens that will changed the meaning of the day for the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this story. I appreciate it. Thank you to A for the beta.

The Road to Recovery

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Six: Reaping Day**

  
  


**The Road to Recovery**

Some days were brutal. Some days you woke up and the day felt never ending. Everything you touched, saw, smelled… Everything reminded you of the ones you've lost. This had been one of those days for me. From the moment I woke up I felt the loss of my father and my sister everywhere. I didn't want to go hunting because it made me think of my father. Staying at home made me think of Prim. Even Finnick had been on my mind. As the morning progressed I thought of Wiress. Of Mags. Of Rue. My thoughts always came back to Rue. Peeta came by, but I told him I didn't feel well. Haymitch stopped by and I told him to leave me alone. I even told Greasy Sae not to bother cooking for me. Today I hadn’t felt like talking to anyone. Today I just needed to let the sadness consume me and mourn. Today, I realized, was reaping day.

Children no longer had to get dressed in their best clothing and stand in a crowd. They didn't have to wait to hear their name called off from a slip of paper that was placed in a bowl, and they no longer had to battle to the death for the entertainment of the Capitol. Yet the day still held a somber tone.

I turned on the television set for a minute and no program was on. Only the faces of the children that were murdered in the arena. Under their picture was their name, the year they were born and the year they died. No words were spoken. No music played. Just the pictures of the children. Plutarch actually did me proud with this tribute. It was respectful. Not something that was created for ratings. As I shut the television off I saw Foxface and my world crumbled. I cried. I cried for Foxface. For Rue. For Cato and Clove. I cried for all of the tributes that went into the arena and never came out. For the children that never had a chance. For the families that lost their children, and for the victors who had to live with their blood on their hands.

When Peeta's arms wrapped around me, I didn't move. His silent tears joined mine and together we endured the massive loss. Most of them were strangers to us. Yet somehow we were so close to them. We shared a bond.

Haymitch came back to my house shortly after and we all sat around the kitchen table. He turned on the television, and when I told him to shut it off he said, "We survived, Katniss. They didn't. The least we can do is show our respect." I nodded in agreement. We didn't stare at it, but each one of us looked at the television on occasion.

At Two o'clock, the time we'd normally have to gather for the reaping, we turned our attention to the television set and saw Rue's photo. I wanted to turn away from it, but I couldn't. I kept choking back the tears, wishing for the day to end, but it just continued on.

When the girl from District Eight came up, the one that Peeta finished off during the Games, he turned from the screen and pounded his fist against the wall. I rubbed his back and turned him into my arms. He killed her for me. She died, a complete stranger to us, died so I could live. It was revolting.

Many times during the day we'd find each other's arms. Clinging onto the other for dear life. After all, that's what we fought for. Our lives. Not just mine, but his as well. It was what we were still fighting for.

As the day progressed my thoughts kept going back to this boy. Peeta. This sweet, kind man that would've died for me. That almost died trying to protect me. That did die in the second arena, only to be brought back to life. I was grateful he was here. So thankful he stayed by my side. I imagined what it would be like to see his face on the television screen, and the thought was so repugnant I had to push it out of my mind. I reached for his hand and pulled it to my face. I just needed to feel his pulse. Know that his heart was beating. He pulled me gently into his embrace and whispered in my ear. "I know… I know…" I felt his lips against my temple as my fingers dug into his back. I couldn't pull him close enough.

At dinner time, Greasy Sae came over with a pot of stew and left right away. Peeta dished some out for us, but none of us touched it. We sat quietly at the table. Patiently. Waiting for tomorrow to begin. It couldn’t come quick enough.

During the course of the day we saw the images of Mags, Wiress, Chaff, Glimmer… The list seemed endless. Haymitch, I realized, had the worst of it. He knew so many more of these tributes than we did. He had mentored over fourty of them, and befriended those that were in the second arena with Peeta and me.

When Maysilee Donner's face appeared Haymitch left the table, walked into the living room and stared at the screen. I knew how hard he took her death. She died in his arms. Like Rue died in mine. I went into my bedroom and took out my mockingjay pin. I closed my fists around it, said a silent thank you to Maysilee and took it downstairs to him. When I placed it in his hand I told him, "It belonged to Maysilee. I want you to have it. She would've wanted you to have it." He held onto it and just nodded his thanks to me. It was the first time I'd ever seen him cry.

We sat in the living room and watched the television screen light up with different faces until 11:59pm when they put something on the screen saying: Honorable Mentions and showed Finnick then followed it up with Prim. Neither one of them died in the arena, but their deaths were ultimately caused by the Games. The television went black. Peeta pulled me into his arms and I cried silently. I don't know when Haymitch left, but it wasn't long before Peeta took me upstairs and we crawled under the covers. It was 12:15 in the morning and reaping day was over. No children were taken away to their deaths. No one had to say a tearful goodbye to their parents. And in District Four Annie gave birth to a baby boy.

My mother called at 12:45 in the morning telling us about Finnick and Annie's son. He was born at 11:00pm and named after his father. Annie had spent the whole day in labor with my mother at her side.

An hour after my mother's call, Peeta and I went back to bed. As we lay in the darkness I thought about the day's events and how the meaning of this day would forever be changed.

"Wow," Peeta said softly. "A baby boy."

"Yeah." I felt the smile creep up on my face.

"And he'll never be reaped."

Of this I wasn't sure. It was still hard to believe. I was certain that things could go back to the way they used to be. That one day the Games would return.

"Would you do it?" He asked.

"Do what?"

"Have a baby."

"No." How could I? If the Games came back my child would be in the arena for sure.

"I'd like to have kids one day."

"Aren't you afraid?"

"I used to be. I swore I wouldn't have kids. Not in the world we lived in. But we don't live in that world anymore. So yeah… I'd like to have a couple…one day."

"I don't think I ever could, Peeta."

"That's okay, Katniss. I'm sure your husband would be happy just living his life with you and you alone." He looked down at me and I knew he was speaking from his heart. He brushed the hair out of my eyes and said, "Just you." He leaned down and kissed me so gently. It was a soft brush of his lips. A kiss of hope. I didn't protest it. I didn't want to. I wanted him to kiss me again, but he didn't.

"Katniss?" His voice had a dreamlike quality to it.

"Yes?"

"Do you think that Finnick planned this?" I lifted my face to his. "Like somewhere out there he wanted his son to be born on reaping day? So Annie wouldn't have to go through what we went through today? So she'd have something to celebrate instead of something to grieve for?"

I smiled. It was such a promising thought. My hand found Peeta's under the covers and I pulled it around me. "Wouldn't that be something?" It was that moment that I realized exactly how much I loved Peeta. How much I had always loved him. My stomach began to feel like someone was churning butter inside of it at my conclusion. I loved Peeta Mellark.

I lifted my gaze to Peeta and found him looking down at me. My bedroom window was halfway open allowing the evening sounds to float in. The moon was acting as nature's nightlight, as were the stars flickering in the dark sky, highlighting Peeta's facial features. He lifted his hand to cup my cheek gently caressing my skin with the tips of his fingers. Slowly his hand began to drift downward, his fingertips brushing feathery strokes against the side of my neck while his thumb grazed my slightly parted lips. My insides were trembling from his tender touch. My eyelids began to flutter as his intense gaze held my own, and from out of nowhere, I puckered my lips, and placed a soft kiss against the pad of his thumb. His expression went from inquisition to shock within a matter of seconds. He removed his hand from my skin and let it rest on the mattress. Our eyes were still locked, neither one of us able to break the bond. As if testing a theory Peeta lifted his head off of the pillow and placed his closed lips against my own. They were perfectly still as mine puckered and pressed a tender peck against his mouth. We didn't close our eyes, and Peeta kept his lips unresponsive as I kissed him. I held my lips against his in a steady kiss waiting for him to react. I watched as his eyes registered the magnitude of my actions. After about thirty seconds, Peeta pulled away from me, almost in slow motion, and began looking around the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” I asked him in a completely befuddled state.

“Looking for the camera.” When his eyes drifted towards mine with humor in them I clamped my lips tightly closed trying to bite back my smile.

“I've got one hiding in the closet. It's actually been in there for months just waiting for something like this to happen,” my attempt at a joke was rewarded with a smile.

Peeta lay his head back down on the pillow, curled his arm behind my back and tucked his free hand behind his head. I waited for him to make some sort of move. To initiate another kiss, but he didn't. A million thoughts began to race through my head. _You've hurt him too many times. He hasn't forgiven you for pretending you had feelings for him in the first arena. He hates you because you chose Gale over him._ That's when it hit me. I had chosen Gale over Peeta too many times before. I had spent my time doling out kisses to both of them at the same time, trying to decide who it was I wanted. Now it was time for Peeta to decide if he wanted me.

It would have been easy to lay my head against his chest and pretend that nothing had happened. Acting like there was nothing between me and Peeta had come so easily to me in the past, but things were different now. I no longer wanted to pretend so I lifted myself up, curled my hand against his cheek, and kissed him again. Letting him know that I wanted this. Though I wasn't quite sure what 'this' was that I wanted, I knew kissing him and changing the nature of our relationship was an important step for me to take on our rocky path back to rebuilding our lives. This time Peeta kissed me back. It was a few pecks at most, but what they represented meant a great deal to our budding relationship.

When we pulled apart Peeta smiled into my eyes, threaded his fingers through the hair above my ear, and blew out a breath. I thought maybe he'd say something to me about me kissing him, but the only thing he said was, “Goodnight, Katniss.”

“Goodnight, Peeta,” I tucked my head against his chest, and curled myself against him. I wasn't sure what time he fell asleep, but I hadn't fallen asleep for a couple more hours wondering if I had done the right thing and replaying the entire day's events in my mind. When I woke up in the morning I could feel his eyes looking down at me and instantly regretted my actions the night before _. Obviously he doesn’t want that type of relationship with you anymore._ I’m not sure how I came to this conclusion without even looking at Peeta, but it’s what I had decided in that split millisecond of time. _But he kissed you first_. Arguing with myself had instantly become the next sanest option. _Maybe you should talk to him about it? See what he thinks?_ Since sanity and I had been on _such_ good terms as of late, I chose that moment to face Peeta. Unsure of what to say, I slowly turned my face towards his and held my breath. As it turned out, I didn’t have to say a thing. Peeta didn’t give me a chance to. His lips were on mine within a split second.

At first contact, I wasn’t quite sure what was happening. Peeta was kissing me… _Oh my God. Peeta’s kissing me._ Granted it was a pretty chaste kiss compared to a few of the others we had shared in the past, the one on the beach immediately came to mind, but it was enough to let me know that he understood my offer the night before.

His hands got lost in my hair as I rested mine against his shoulders. I don’t know why we both decided to start this habit of kissing each other with our eyes open. Maybe to make sure what was happening was real? That we weren’t putting on a show? Maybe there was a hidden truth behind his joke about the cameras.

We spent about two or three minutes sharing some very gentle, very timid kisses before Peeta pulled away and said, “I needed to make sure.”

“Of what?” I asked.

“That this was really happening.” A slight blush climbed up his cheeks. “Guess I’m just not used to you being the one to initiate a real kiss.”

“I’ve kissed you plenty of times,” I said to him in my defense, not wanting to take offense to his accusation.

“I said, _real_ ,” he dragged the word out before letting a sad chuckle escape. “You want some breakfast?”

“I guess,” I rolled over and hid my face in the pillow not wanting him to see the pain that had registered there from his all too accurate assessment at one of my many failings.

“What do you want?”

“Whatever you’re making,” I said with a bit of a snarly tone.

“Boiled pine bark it is.” I rolled over and threw my pillow at the back of his head as he made his way into the bathroom. The pillow hit the door as he closed it and let out a laugh behind it.

“Boiled pine bark,” I grumbled into my bed. I never wanted to eat pine anything ever again.

“Want some pancakes?” He called out to me through the closed door.

I had only had pancakes twice before, both times at the Capitol. We never had enough flour to waste on something as fancy as a pancake. I have had maple syrup though. We had used that to sweeten our hot grain as a treat on special occasions. “Pancakes sound good.” I waited until he opened the door before asking, “Do you know how to make them?”

“I think so,” he was washing his hands, and I couldn’t help but stare at the profile of his bare torso. He had put on quite a lot of weight since being rescued from the Capitol. The V shape of his torso had come back as did some of the muscles he had before we went into the arena. “Like what you see?”

“Huh?” He had caught me staring at him and faced me directly. “Oh…uh…I was just thinking you look a lot healthier now.”

“Healthier?” He padded up to the bed and bent over me. “Is that your way of saying you like my body?” He stared down into my shocked and exceptionally red face. “I’m kidding, Katniss.” He placed a quick kiss against my cheek. “Go get dressed and be at my place in a half an hour. I’ll have your breakfast waiting.” He pulled on his shirt and shoes. “We’ll go into town after breakfast, ‘kay?”

“Sure.” I stayed in bed until I heard the door shut downstairs. “Get a hold of yourself Katniss,” I shook my head at my reflection the second I sat up and saw it across the room in the mirror. “Ugh,” I hung my head down in my hands and tried not to puke at how horrible I looked. My hair was a wild mess. I hadn’t bothered braiding my hair the day before, nor did I take a brush to it. My face looked puffy and streaked from the tears I had shed the day before. My eyes were bloodshot and the nightshirt I had grabbed in haste off the floor had a large red stain above the breast from some jam that fell onto it a couple of days earlier. I walked to the phone and called Peeta as soon as I judged he’d be home. “I need to take a shower so I might be a few minutes late.”

“That’s okay. I think these might take a little longer than I thought anyway. It’s my first time making them.”

“Okay,” I wondered how he knew how to make them if he had never done it before. “See you in a little while.” I heard the sound of flipping pages in the background.

“Sounds good. Oh, remember I don’t have tea so if you want some, bring it with you. In case you’re wondering, I want chamomile.”

“I don’t know if I have chamomile?”

“Pantry. Second shelf, behind the small sugar canister.”

“Oh…uh, okay. I’ll bring the tea.”

“And the maple syrup.”

“I’m going to go ahead and assume I have that too.”

“Pantry, left side…one…two,” he began counting to himself. “Fourth shelf from the bottom there’s some bottles. You’ll see sunflower oil, a bottle of honey and some jelly. Behind those will be a bottle of maple syrup. Bring it.”

“How do you know what’s in my pantry?” I asked with a crinkled brow.

“Who do you think has been cooking every meal for you since the fish and katniss?”

“I’ll take a stab in the dark and say it hasn’t been Greasy Sae.” Now that I thought of it, the day before when she brought the stew had been the first time I had seen her bringing me food in a while. “Chef. I’ll add that to the list.”

“What list?” I could hear the sound of pots and pans clinking and knew Peeta was making progress with our breakfast.

“Painter, baker, victor, ally, friend…chef,” I answered him, leaving a few things intentionally out.

“I think I remember that list and as I recall I had hunter, lover and fiancé on it too, and it was _my_ descriptive list of words for _you_ , not the other way around.”

“I started my own list,” I leaned closer to the mirror across the room and made a face at myself. “I really need to go if you want me to come over there at any point in time this morning. From the looks of this rat’s nest on my head, washing my hair might be something of a chore today.”

“How about I bring the pancakes to you, then you won’t have to worry about finding the syrup and the tea?”

“Either way,” I shrugged. “If I finish first, I’ll come there. If not—“I let the implication hang in the air.

“Okay. See you soon, and Katniss—“

“Yeah?”

“I wouldn’t care if you came here with your head shaved. You’re always beautiful.” I remembered a time when he told me that I wasn’t very pretty, and I was thrilled that that person was gone for the most part.

“See you in a little while.” I hung up the phone and pressed my hands against the nightstand trying to compose myself. _He thinks you’re beautiful again_. I lifted a hand to my face and smiled, telling myself to hurry up and get dressed. _Peeta’s waiting_.

I could smell breakfast the second I opened up the bathroom door. The aroma of bacon, maple and pancakes wafted up the stairs of my large house and lingered in the air. My mouth began to water. I tugged the towel off of my head and reached for the brush on the counter, tugging it through the knotted mess in a hurry. My clothing was piled on the large burgundy armchair next to the tiny marble table with a lamp and some sort of decorative vase filled with colored crystals and dark blue water. _How is it that the water never evaporates?_ I looked at it inquisitively before lifting my arms to braid my hair. I didn’t hear his footsteps, which was a first considering Peeta sounded like he was pounding every time his foot hit the floor; I was sort of distracted thinking about the fact that Peeta had kissed me that morning. That I had kissed him the night before. I had never really given more than two or three of our kisses any thought. Truthfully I didn’t know what I’d find once I delved into that aspect of our lives. Would I discover that there was no emotion behind the vast majority of our kisses, or would I see what the entire world thought they had seen? A young girl falling in love. Yeah, it was time to put thoughts like that out of my head. There was no way I was ready to face that. With my decision made, and my hair almost completely braided, I decided to concentrate on breakfast.

“Hey, I brought… Oh, geez,” Peeta’s voice had me turning towards him. “Sorry. Sorry,” he apologized, but I really didn’t know why until I looked down and noticed that I was still wearing a towel and it was barely hanging on. “I…uh…” he lifted the tray he was carrying in his hands. “I brought you breakfast. Thought we could eat it on the balcony.”

I snatched up my clothes, held the towel up, and walked back into the bathroom without saying a peep.

By the time I got out and joined him on the balcony that looked out over my backyard, Peeta was sipping at his tea, and his flushed cheeks had turned back to their normal color. “Sorry it took me so long.” I started with an apology because I really had been sorry. If I had hurried up and not tried to comb that deep conditioning crap through my hair that Octavia sent to me from the Capitol to help repair the damage it withstood after the bombs went off, I would have been able to go to Peeta’s house, but the directions said to leave it in for ten minutes before rinsing it out and it really was helping my hair. Not that I was one for glamor or beauty, but I always liked my hair. My father used to say that my hair was like spun chestnut colored silk. I had no clue what that meant at the time, but it sounded nice, and now that I knew what silk was, it reminded me of Cinna too, so I took care with my hair.

I lifted up the cover Peeta put over my plate to keep my food warm with anticipation. “Wow, this looks really good.” Peeta got up and pulled my chair out for me. I could feel my face squishing together in confusion at his kind gesture. “Since when do you pull my chair out for me?” I sat down and felt him push it under me.

“Since I decided to stop acting like a coward and start doing the things I’ve always wanted to do,” he took his seat. “Hope they turned out okay,” he pointed to the pancakes on my plate. “Like I said, this was the first time I’ve ever made them.”

“Did your parents teach you how to make them?” I poured the maple syrup over it, still not accustomed to using more than a half of teaspoon full simply for the purposes of sweetening my grain.

“My parents?” Peeta let out a laugh. “No. They would have never wasted flour on something like pancakes. Too valuable.”

“Then how did you learn to make them?”

“A cookbook.” He cut into a piece of his pancake with a fork and lightly dipped in into a little bowl of maple syrup.

“You know it works better if you just dump the syrup onto the pancakes.”

“I know. It’s just that...” Peeta made a face, “…I’m not crazy about sweets, and maple syrup is exceptionally sweet.”

I let out a laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked me.

“A baker that doesn’t like sweets? That’s pretty funny.”

“That’s why I don’t like sweets.”

“That sounds like it would be an interesting story.”

“Want me to tell it to you?”

He offered and though I did want him to tell me, I said no anyway. “You can tell me about it the next time I need you to get my mind off of my nightmares,” it sounded like a great idea to me.

“You’ve got a deal.” He pointed at my plate with his fork. “Now hurry up and eat so we can start our day.”

“I take it I have plans today?”

“Told you before…I want to go to town.”

“Oh, that’s right.” I sipped at my tea. “Mmmm, this is good.”

“You didn’t have any more chamomile tea, and I saw this package of rose-hip so I took a chance.” Peeta sipped at his. “Never had it before?”

I shook my head, “No.” I set the cup down on the table and looked across my balcony. “I saw the box of it in the pantry after I got back to Twelve, I guess Greasy Sae bought it, but once I saw the name… I just couldn’t drink it.”

Peeta took the cup from in front of me and stood up. “I’ll make you something else,” his voice was serious.

“No,” I reached out my hand to stop him from walking away with our tea cups. “Peeta, it’s silly. It’s not like the tea tastes like roses or anything.”

“It was stupid of me to make this. I wasn’t thinking.” The expression on his face read guilt.

“Peeta, stop it.” I ran one hand over his forearm and with the other I reached for my tea. “I really like it so please don’t dump it out.” His eyes met mine. “Sit down. Let’s drink our tea and then we can go to town and buy you some.”

“And we’ll get you some milk,” he decided to sit back down.

“I have milk,” I knew I had seen an almost full bottle of the white stuff.

“Katniss that wasn’t milk. That was some sort of science experiment.”

“Was it bad?” _Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve had any milk to drink in days other than Peeta’s house._

“I poured some in a cup and it came out in chunks.” Peeta stuck his tongue out. “Pretty disgusting, Katniss.”

“Sorry. I’m not really very good at keeping track of the stuff in my kitchen.” I ate the last bite of my breakfast. “Either you or Greasy Sae has been cooking for me, or before that it was my mother. The only time I really cooked was when I went to the woods for the day and I usually just roasted something over an open fire. I used to cook after my father died but...” I didn't want to think about that time period of my life and how my mother had lost the ability to function. It hit too close to home. I had no problem letting the entire thing drop.

“Maybe you should learn how,” he suggested. “I could teach you if you wanted.”

I gave him face and said, “Blech.” To which he laughed. “I really hate domesticated crap like that. I’m not good at it.”

“That’s why I’ve offered to teach you.”

“Let me rephrase that. I don’t want to learn how to do that domesticated crap.” With our meals completed we stood up and began piling our dirty dishes onto the tray he had used to carry our food upstairs. “Some women are good at this stuff and others are…well…” I tried to explain. “My mother always tried to teach me how to do things around the house claiming it was a good wife’s job to keep their home clean and make sure dinner is ready for her husband.”

“Are you serious?” Peeta gave me a strange look.

“I know, right?”

“I would think that it’s both the husband and the wife’s job to keep their home in shape and cook meals. What about all those women that have to go to work? Are they just supposed to come home and start working at another job just because she became someone’s wife?” Peeta placed the tray on the counter while I filled the sink up with soapy water.

I shrugged before getting down to business and cleaning the mess Peeta created in the kitchen. “I think she thought of being a wife and a mother as her job or something because she didn’t have one outside of our house.”

“I thought she was a healer.” Peeta dried and put away the dishes while I washed and then we both worked on counters and floors.

“She didn’t really do much of that when my dad was alive. Mostly if someone was desperate or something and they couldn’t afford to go to the actual doctor,” I told him.

With the kitchen cleaned Peeta and I prepared for our walk to town. “How much stuff do you need to get?” I gestured towards a closet. “I’ve got an extra bag in there if you want to use it for your stuff.”

“Sure. Thanks.” He took out the bag my mother used to use to carry her supplies in when she went to town.

Peeta picked up our conversation as soon as we left the house. “I knew your mom was a healer, but I wasn’t sure if she did that full time while you were growing up.”

I stuck my hand in his outstretched one and we walked to town. “I thought you knew everything about me?” I teased him. “You certainly acted like you did.” I gave him a little bump on the hip with my own.

“I _wanted_ to know everything about you, but it’s not like I could have just walked into the Seam and started asking questions.” Peeta lifted my hand to his lips and placed a kiss against the back of it causing the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

We spent the rest of our walk in silence, our linked hands swinging between us.

“Where to first?” I asked him.

“Um, the general market?” He pulled out a sheet of paper from his back pocket. “I have a list of things I need. Don’t let me forget the tea. I forgot to write that down.”

We entered the market with Peeta’s list in hand and a wire basket they provided to put your items in while you shopped. Peeta picked up basic things like soap, toilet paper and a couple of toothbrushes. “What are those for?” I asked him. “Do we need new ones?”

“I thought we’d leave one at the other’s house in case we slept over. That’s why I’m getting the soap and stuff too,” he grabbed a bottle of shampoo and put it in the basket.

“Plan on moving in?” I was only joking.

“Not yet.” My feet froze in place. “Let’s go to the butcher next.” Peeta began walking ahead of me, but I was stuck. “Are you coming?” he looked back at me.

“Um…yeah.”

“Good. I’d hate to leave you here in the middle of the store with your mouth hanging open. I might find this whole,” he made a motion with his finger up and down my body, “scared of your own shadow thing, kind of cute, but other people might think you’ve lost your mind.”

I scowled at him. “You’re not moving in with me, and I’m not moving in with you.”

He let out a loud laugh. “Oh, God, Katniss. I was teasing you.” He tugged my hand. “Come on.”

It was hard for me to take this as a joke, but Peeta seemed to be having a good time at my expense. “Now you have to buy me candy,” I sounded like a spoiled child, but I wanted some licorice whips and since Peeta was being a smart ass it was only fair that he bought them for me.

“What kind?” The hair on my arms stood up when he asked me that. Not because he agreed to it, but the way he looked at me...looked through me, it was a little more than I could take at that particular moment in time. Like he had somehow figured out what I had only just hours before. That I loved him. For a second I thought I was completely transparent. That he could read it all over my face, and then he asked, “Peppermint? Chocolate? Name your poison.”

“Lic-” I cleared my throat when my mouth stopped working.

  
  


“Lick? As in, Peeta I want something to lick?” My jaw dropped. “They've got those spiral, rainbow colored lollipops if that’s what you’re interested in,” he pulled me to the corner of the sweet shop and pointed out a few things, but I was still in shock over his choice of words. “We'll get you one of those small ones, and...” he looked around the shop completely oblivious to my stellar performance of a bumbling fool. “Ooh, ever have these? Effie gave me a couple once. They're called chocolate covered coffee beans. Normally I’m not big on candy or coffee, but I like these.” Peeta dropped my hand and went to find the proprietor of the store while I stood there in a lame attempt to get myself together.

 _What is wrong with me lately? Why can't I stop these demented thoughts from going through my mind?_ I dried my exceptionally sweaty palms on my pant legs, took a deep breath and blurted out, “Licorice,” as soon as he came back.

“Oh...okay. Licorice,” he bit at the bottom corner of his lip and I suddenly wished it were me doing that.

 _Stop it, Katniss_. I shook it off. “The red ones.”

“You want the ones that look like shoelaces or the thick nugget looking things?” Peeta stood next to the case ready to place the order with the shop owner.

“Laces.”

“Can I get a handful of those red shoe laces please?” Peeta asked and leaned on the counter waiting for our order to be bagged up. “So how have things been going for you since you moved back?”

“Pretty good. How about yourself?” The shop owner got into a casual conversation with Peeta while I waited to get the hell out of there and head home. There was a rock in my backyard that I needed to crawl under. “...all talking about it. You really should reopen the bakery. No one around here can bake like you.” My ears suddenly picked up on their topic.

I could see the tension in Peeta's jaw...the way the little knot began to form at the hinge. “Peeta, I really need to get going. We've got a lot to do today.” Anyone that knew Peeta prior to the hijacking and escaped to Thirteen with us probably would’ve guessed as to what was about to happen, but they wouldn’t completely understand, and those that were new to the district would probably run and hide. “Let's go,” I grabbed Peeta's hand and pulled him forcefully out of the store leaving the change on the counter. “Let's go home.” There were other things we needed to stop and get, but the most important thing to me now was getting Peeta to a safe environment and away from prying eyes. “Please, Peeta,” I started to beg him when he froze in place. His entire body stiffened up, his eyes turned dark and stormy as he looked across the Town Square at his old home. At the place where he was raised and his family was murdered. Not quite sure of how Peeta would react, I stepped in front of his line of sight and held onto the sides of his face, forcing him to look at me instead. “Thank you for the candy, Peeta. That was kind of you.” I fumbled for something else to say. “I don't suppose you want to go to your place and sketch me?” He always liked doing that in the past for some reason and lately I noticed he’d been doing it again. The offer was obviously tempting to him since his eyes flashed towards mine. “I'll pose for you if you want. Just tell me how you want me and I'll do it,” my heart began pounding against my chest as his face slowly went from one of terror to one filled with an emotion I hadn't yet been willing to face.

“Will you let me hold you instead?” His voice was barely audible.

“Yes,” my tone matched his.

“Take me home, Katniss,” he whispered.

“Come on,” I led him back to Victor's Village, but instead of going to his place, we went to mine. Peeta dumped the bag on the table, which we both ignored, and we walked straight to the sofa. “Lie down,” I said against his ear as we held onto one another.

Peeta slipped his shoes off and lay stretched out upon the sofa. There was plenty of room for me to slide up next to him, but he pulled me down on top of him and tucked my head under his chin. “Just let me hold you this way for a little while, okay?”

It was strange putting my complete body weight on top of him, but nice too. “Okay,” I agreed. I knew he wanted to hold me like that for his own benefit, but the way he made me feel by trailing hands up and down my back told me that I was making out like a bandit in this situation as well. “Want to take a nap? We only got a couple of hours sleep last night.” We only got a couple of hours sleep every night, but that was beside the point.

“No. I can't sleep. I can't...” his voice started to get thick with emotion and I knew without even looking that Peeta had started to cry. With each silent tear that ran down his cheeks I felt myself drowning deeper into his sorrow. “I barely even spoke to them at the end. I was so afraid of what might happen to them,” I knew he was speaking about his family and wanting to keep them out of Snow’s reach. “I used to think to myself, if I die it’s going to hurt them, but you know what?” I looked up into his eyes. “I knew...when we were on the beach that night talking and I said no one needed me...I knew they might be sad for a little while, but they'd be just fine without me, and the worst part is” he gulped, “I'll be fine without them, Katniss. Eventually…I’ll be fine without…”

“Oh, Peeta,” I pressed a kiss against his lips which tasted of salt, to help bring him some sort of comfort. I had no idea what it was like to experience that kind of pain. An almost lack of pain. To hurt for people because you didn’t love them as much as I loved Prim.

“Katniss, what does that say about me?” He just stared into my eyes, and I wanted to answer his question…I really did, but I couldn’t find the right words. “It must say I’m a pathetic excuse for a human being.”  
  
“No. No,” I ran my hand over his cheek. “Don’t say those things about yourself.”

“It’s pretty obvious by your silence, Katniss.”

“Is that what you think?” I frantically shook my head. “Peeta,” how did I make him understand that finding the right words were difficult for me? “Don’t you remember? I’m not good at saying something.” I hoped he understood that I wasn’t saying anything because I simply didn’t know what to say.

“Yes you are,” he continually pushed a piece of hair over my ear. “When you really want to, you know exactly what to say.”

“It’s a rarity.”

Peeta’s eyes drifted closed, he inhaled a deep breath through his nostrils, and blew it out through a tiny opening between his lips. When he opened up his eyes and held my gaze I could feel it burrowing a hole through me. With his head tilted slightly to the side, he lifted it off of the sofa cushion and pressed his lips against my own. “Katniss,” his throaty whisper between our soft kiss had me swallowing over and over again. Before I knew it, he rolled me to my side, draped his leg over mine, and held one hand behind my back and the other behind my neck. The next kiss we shared was far from the chaste ones we had shared before. His mouth parted against mine and his tongue swiped between the seam of my lips.

There were several times Peeta had kissed me this way before, and when he did, I felt this tightening in my chest, my heart would start to race, and I found myself full of need for…something, I just didn’t know what that something was. There was only one big difference between the other kisses that brought on those feelings and this kiss...there were no cameras filming our every move. No one was watching to see how I'd react to him, or how far he would take it. No one tuning to their television sets listening to our breathing as it grew ragged and choppier.

Peeta slid his tongue deeper into my mouth and began this slow and languid motion that reminded me of the way he swirled the tip of his paintbrush across the canvas in fluid strokes. Since I hadn’t been too experienced in this sort of kissing, the majority of the ones I shared with him had never really involved us using his tongue, and Gale’s kisses were always closed mouthed. The one time Gale did poke his tongue into my mouth, I immediately pulled away. During this particular kiss I chose to mimic Peeta’s actions, dipping and swirling my tongue, getting it playfully tangled with his and in less than a minute our heads were tilting, my hands were cupping his face while his were roaming up and down my back…arms…over my hip… They skimmed across my shoulders and up my neck while mine slowly moved upwards allowing my fingers to get lost in his hair. Our mouths grew hot and slippery as our lips began to swell. The length of our bodies pressed against each other. My leg that had been tucked between his moved out of some sort of instinct and soon my knee was pressing into his upper thigh, and the muscles in his whole body stiffened. The eyes we had tightly closed were now opened and exploring the other’s expression. Peeta’s eyes were as bright as a summer sky after the rain, and though I couldn’t see my own, I knew they were filled with the storm that was gradually building up in my body. I could hear this strange noise coming from between our kiss, a whimpering of sorts and it came as a complete shock to both of us when we realized that it was coming from me. Peeta pulled the lower half of his body away from mine, but I reached out and pulled him back by the hips. I hadn’t expected the loud groan to come from him. I dug my fingers into his shoulders and sucked in a deep breath, breaking away from the kiss for all of a second before Peeta pulled me back into it. The kiss was growing quickly out of control as was the rapid beating of my heart. I knew I should have ended it. Things were moving way too fast, at least I thought they were, and Peeta must have sensed this too because he placed his hands on my hips and pushed himself away from me a mere second before releasing me from the kiss. Right before he pulled away from me I felt that sharp twinge in the lower part of my stomach and my entire body shuddered as some sort of animal like moan escaped from my throat.

Peeta pulled his hips away from me a few more inches, and got out a very non apologetic sounding, “Sorry,” he pressed a kiss against my forehead before rolling to his back and draping an arm over the lower part of his body. “I didn't mean for us to get so carried away.”

“It's okay,” I was surprised at myself. Not because of what we had just done, but because I _wanted_ him to get carried away.

He questioned me with his eyes, “Is it okay that I kissed you...like _that_?”

I had to think for all of maybe a second. I trailed my finger down the side of his flushed cheek and whispered to him, “Yes.” It was more than okay. It was a revelation. It was earth shattering. It was... “If you wanted to do that again, I wouldn't argue,” …worth repeating.

The sound of Peeta’s laughter bubbled up beneath my ear as I rested my head against his chest. I wasn’t sure if something I said or did was funny, and I was quickly becoming overwhelmed with a feeling of shame. “Do you realize we went to the market today for milk and tea and we forgot both?” Peeta looked down into my eyes and grabbed me in a hug. Suddenly my laughter joined his. It wasn’t really all that funny, but it broke up the enormous amount of tension that had built up between us. He gave me a slight tap on my lower back and said, “Let’s go put our stuff away and see what Haymitch is up to.”

I didn’t want to move from that comfortable spot on the sofa, but staying there like that with Peeta after what just happened between us… visiting Haymitch was probably the smartest thing to do. “’kay.”

As I went to roll my feet off the sofa, Peeta gave me one more quick kiss and a slight swipe of his tongue between them. “Be careful what you wish for, Katniss.” He held my face between his hands and kissed me until I was left breathless. “You just might get it.”

He didn’t kiss me like that for the rest of the day, and that night when we went to bed I was grateful all he gave me was a peck on the forehead. Peeta was right, I needed to be careful. This was not an area I was ready to jump into so readily.

We spent the next few days at my house and then we went to Peeta’s. As far as kisses went, they weren’t really sought out by either one of us, and love? Well… I put that thought to rest as quickly as possible. Just trying to make it through the waking day was hard enough. Confusing what Peeta and I were just starting to get back with talk of love would just muck everything up, and neither one of us wanted or needed that. As far as kisses went, after Peeta’s comment about being careful, let’s just say we both took his advice to heart. All though… at night…when the nightmares come…like last night when I woke up screaming and crying because Finnick was reaching out to me and mutts were tearing his legs to shreds, and all I could see were his green eyes glowing behind my closed lids, begging me to save his life, Peeta’s arms were there to comfort me and so were his lips.

  
  


  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to follow me on Tumblr. I'm jamiesommers23 and you can find all of my stories on fanfiction.net. If you haven't read my Rewrite of THG series, I invite you to do so by starting with the 74th Hunger Games Challenge: We Always Were Thanks again! ~J


	7. Gale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Katniss and Peeta grow closer, and learn to put the past behind them, they get some startling news that will change everything they've built between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but I got a bit sidetracked with a Joshifer fic of all things. Normally I don't write those, but I felt the urge so I went with it. If you want to read it you can go to my tumblr page and find it. It's called Intimate Strangers. I also started a new tumblr page for the Joshifer shippers out there called joshiferrecs. It's a page dedicated to joshifer fan fics. Feel free to take a gander if you like. 
> 
> Thank you to SF (new beta) for doing such a good job, and MS, thank you for offering your services. A, I miss you! Just wanted to tell him that.

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Seven: Gale**

**The Road to Recovery**

Happiness is not something I normally associate with myself. Joy occurs in my life about as often as a lump of coal is crushed into a pearl. Yet these past few days have been full of both joy and happiness. Where I once loathed the thought of bedtime, now I welcomed it. Peeta was always with me now. Or I with him. Our friendship had solidified into something I had never experienced before. Not even with Gale. Yes, I had been close to Gale. I had shared things with him I had never shared with anyone else, but this thing I had with Peeta made that feel inadequate. At first I thought it was just the connection we shared because of all we went through in the arena as well as afterward during the war, but then I realized I would have always gotten along with Peeta. We seemed to...click for some strange reason and I honestly didn't know why. When I really thought about it, we were polar opposites. Where I would fly off the handle at the smallest little thing, he would laugh it off. When I was convinced that Haymitch was nothing but a waste of air, because all he ever did was get drunk and vomit, Peeta would remind me how smart our mentor was by engaging him in some sort of discussion, usually of a political nature. Haymitch wasn't convinced the new government was going to work and Peeta was sure it would be a success. Their arguments were never like mine and Haymitch's. Theirs were always well thought out discussions. They were fair, each one giving the other a chance to speak his mind and share their point of view. On the other hand, Peeta has had to hold me back by the shoulders on more than one occasion in which Haymitch and I had a disagreement. Once about lemonade and what was better, tart or sweet? Yes, Peeta and I were as different as black from white. And when he got a flashback it was like our roles instantly reversed. I was no longer hard and struggling for things to say. Somehow I'd slip into this...persona I had never knew existed inside of me, and bring Peeta back to reality. His flashbacks were slowly easing up and more often than not he was back to that sweet boy that had been willing to sacrifice his life in the arena for me. He brought laughter back into my life when I thought it was gone for good. His arms brought a sense of comfort at night to ward off the evil memories that haunted me and the tender kisses he'd give me, to help ease the pain, would usually make me long for more. Other than that one time on the sofa, he hadn't taken our kisses too far. In a way I was grateful, but in the back of my mind I was hoping he'd lose himself again which would give me an excuse to allow it.

One day we took a walk through town and Peeta sketched the meadow. It was in full bloom now, so it was lovely. A cemetery for those that didn't survive the fire bombs. I was touched at how much work was put into it. It was a special place for Peeta. To me it was a reminder of Prim and it tugged at my heart. I could see her walking Lady there, letting the goat feed off of the sprigs and greenery. I could see her smiling and smelling the flowers as they bloomed. It was a difficult place for me to be, but Peeta had insisted that we face it.

"Katniss, we can't live here and not see the meadow. We can't stay in Victor's Village forever. There's a whole district out there…a whole world. We have the freedom to go where we want…see what we want."

"No, Peeta," I corrected him. "You have that freedom. I have to stay in Twelve." It didn't bother me. I was home.

"One day you'll be able to go anywhere you want, Katniss, but if you can't face the rest of our district, how will you face the rest of this country?" He rested his hand on my shoulder and said, "If you never leave the safety of the village you'll always be his prisoner." Peeta knew how to get me to face my fears without being harsh and I was grateful. So when we went to the meadow and I saw how much it had changed from the last time I had seen it filled with corpses, soot and ash, I was taken aback. I stood at the edge of it, holding my breath, as Peeta set down a blanket for us and placed his artist's tools on the ground. "Come here," he held his hand out to me. "I'm going to tell you a story."

I was hesitant at first, ghosts of my sister seemed to linger everywhere, but Peeta's eyes were so warm and inviting. I reached my hand to his and slid it against his palm. "What kind of story?"

"About a mint leaf and a basil leaf," he pressed a kiss against my temple, picked up his sketchpad and began grabbing at different colored coals. "My mother wanted to make herb bread, but we didn't have any basil. Doesn't sound like a problem, but there are certain herbs you need to use when baking that sort of bread and if you don't get it right the flavor is off. It's not like you can see it if the bread tastes bad, so I had this great idea. I thought I'd come out here and pick some basil." As Peeta spoke his fingers were working furiously, turning a blank sheet of paper into a miniature meadow right before my eyes. "There was just one problem. I had no clue what basil looked like out here." The corner of his mouth lifted up into a crooked grin. "I knew what basil looked like, but when it's in the middle of the meadow, surrounded by a bunch of other herbs…well, it was pretty hard to tell what was what. I finally decided I had figured out which was a sprig of basil and began picking them before the Peacekeepers caught me at it, but even if they had, I was pretty sure my father could bribe them with a promise of a loaf of bread and then I heard this tiny voice behind me asking, 'Whatcha doing?'" Peeta glanced in my direction for a brief second. "Needless to say I was frozen in place until I realized the little girl was Prim." I don't remember Prim ever mentioning that she had run into Peeta before, so I was curious as to how this story played out. "So I said to her. I'm collecting basil for some herb bread, but don't tell or I'll probably get thrown in jail or something." And Prim gives me this funny look…her face got all squished up and she says, 'Then why do you have a handful of mint?'" Now I'm staring at this massive amount of herbs, I had just spent the past thirty minutes searching for, in complete disbelief. "Are you sure these aren't basil leaves?" I asked her and she shakes her head real slow and says, 'That's mint.' She held out a hand and I gave her one then she did the damnedest thing. She rubbed the leaf between two fingers and sniffed at it then held it up for me to sniff. 'See?' She says. 'Take a whiff.' Now my curiosity is peaked so I have to smell it and sure enough if it doesn't smell like that stuff my dad brews into tea." Peeta smiled at me, but I was completely caught up in his story, and wanted him to go on. "I didn't want her to think I was a complete idiot, who knows if she'd go home and tell her sister, the girl I had been in love with since the first day of school, that the baker's son was a total moron. Instead I said, "Well, I haven't started getting the basil yet. This is for tea." So she smiles at me and says, 'Oh. Well, if you want, I'll help you pick the basil. The Peacekeepers are making their rounds and will be walking by here in about fifteen minutes so we'll have to hurry.' "Now, I'm no idiot. Of course I'm not going to let her help me. If she got caught she'd be in a world of trouble. So I tell her I can do it and I start searching around the edge of the meadow for more herbs." He dropped a dark green coal and switched it for a bright yellow one. "Then I hear this light little tinkle of laughter and she says, 'You don't know which one is basil do you?'" He paused for a second and rested back on his hands. "How on earth was I supposed to answer that? If I told her the truth I'd look like an imbecile and if I kept on searching and returned with the wrong herb my mother would have a fit so I finally admitted defeat and she walked straight to it, pulled off a leaf and rubbed her fingers against it again. 'If you do that it releases the oils and you can smell it,' she held it out to me again and I took a whiff. Boy did it smell good," Peeta said it like it was a fond memory and I loved the expression on his face. "So I'm hurrying up and gathering as much as I can when I realize I don't need the mint, but maybe she did, so I gave it to her and she shoved it in her jacket pocket. Before I left she handed me this other bunch of herbs and said, 'This is flat parsley. It goes really well with basil. I don't know what you're making, but if you don't try using this in conjunction with the basil then the taste isn't right.'" Peeta and I both let out a little laugh. "Then she said, 'you should try marjoram too,' and bends down and picks a handful of the stuff. By the time I got home my pockets were stuffed with all of these herbs and I spread them out on the counter for my dad to see. Of course he lectured me for going to the meadow and picking the herbs, my mom didn't look all that concerned." He shrugged it off. "The next morning when my dad and I made the bread…" Peeta lifted his eyes and stared somewhere into the distance, "…it was the best herb bread we had ever made. My dad and I each had a slice, you've got to taste it when you bake a new recipe, but other than that, we didn't eat it. "Well," he grinned down at me, "at least we wouldn't get to until it got stale." Peeta laughed a little and I'm not sure why I joined in on his laughter, but I did. Simply put, it was infectious. "My dad," he continued, "shoved a loaf of it to the back of the pantry. 'Shh,'" Peeta held up his finger over his lips, mimicking his father's actions I'm sure. "'Don't tell. We'll eat it tomorrow with dinner.'" Now his smile lit up his entire face and threatened to outshine the sun. "When my dad pulled it out and served it with dinner, my mother gave him a strange look and said, 'I thought we sold out of that.' 'Nope,' he said. 'Still had one loaf left, but it's too old to sell.'" Peeta licked his lips. "That was one of the best dinners of my life. My dad said the bread was stale, and it was, but put it in the oven for a few minutes and let the outside get crispy and the inside soften up…mmm."

"Well, now I want some herb bread," I said flatly.

"Then I guess you're going to have to pick us some herbs while I finish my sketch."

"I can do that," I gave him a soft grin and thought of Prim showing him how to identify the herbs. It was a sweet story and one I had never heard before. As I strolled along the edges of the meadow and pulled up the various items Peeta said he needed, I pictured Prim rubbing the leaves and sniffing at them. She did that often at home. Not because she needed to identify which was which, but because she loved the scents. "Here," I spread out my offering across the blanket and found Peeta staring at the picture he had sketched.

"It's nice remembering," his legs were sticking out in front of him and his feet tapping together. "I keep thinking, it's weird how much I can feel my dad here, but I do." He turned his head to me. "I feel them all here. My brothers. My mother. Like they're resting in the heavens above, shining down on us and keeping us all safe." He lifted his sketch to me and said, "Now I can bring them home with me. I can bring home all the color and wonder of their lives and let it watch over me there too." His family was buried in there, but to him the meadow was a thing of beauty, not a cemetery. I was amazed at how he could see past the pain and find such splendor. And as I looked at his features, the softness of his tender smile, the marvel in his eyes, I felt that pang of love that I had been avoiding. It strummed against my heartstrings, playing a melody I was not ready to sing. The worst part was that he hadn't even touched me and I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. I could hear him warning me to be careful about what I wished for, but I didn't wish for this. Yet here it was, causing the miniscule hairs on my arms to stand on end and my pulse to grow wild. I didn't love Peeta because of what he made me feel when he touched me, I loved him because he touched me when I no longer thought I could feel. That night while we were making dinner I couldn't stop laughing at Peeta's attempts to make something called ravioli. He read about it in a cookbook my mother sent him. She knew better then to send it to me. "Okay," he stood next to the counter, wearing his apron which had a light dusting of flour on it. "Now I'm supposed to flatten it out with a pasta maker." Peeta's whole face morphed into one of shock. "What the hell is a pasta maker!?"

"I have no clue," I chuckled.

"You think this dang recipe would have said I needed something like…hmm…" he began flipping the page to the beginning of the recipe. "Well, what do you know about that?" He threw his hands up in the air. "Recommended tools, a pasta maker." He turned to face me. "That's what happens when you don't read the directions carefully." He shook his head from side to side. "So now what?" He had this look on his face like a dejected five year old boy. "I wanted ravioli."

"Peeta, you've never had ravioli," I told him. "How do you know if you wanted it?"

"That's why I wanted it, Katniss," he said to me with a whine in his tone, and I couldn't help the bubble of laughter that exploded from within me. "You're laughing at me? Well, we'll see who's laughing when it's time to eat dinner tonight." He started flipping through the pages again and let out a satisfied, "Hah!" Within a second he had gotten the rolling pin and spun it around in the palm of his hand like it was a toy top then gripped it by the handle, stopping the spinning instantly. "I've got it now. You think you had me ravioli, well, I've got news for you…" he began letting out this little grunting noise as he pressed the pin into the dough and flattened it out. "Damn skippy," he said with pride when it was in the shape of a perfect rectangle. Peeta's battle with the pasta had been won. When all was said and done, it was delicious. He was covered in flour and my kitchen was a complete wreck, but it was worth it.

I filled the sink up with some soapy water and started to wash the dishes. Peeta's arms encircled my waist from behind and he started to kiss my right ear very softly. My heart stopped.

"What's that for?" I asked him, trying my best to hide the tremor in my voice.

"I'm buttering you up."

Giggling is something I rarely did, but I giggled at his statement. "Why are you buttering me up?"

"So you won't be mad at me."

"Why would I be mad at you?" The whispering in my ear was causing my stomach to flutter. And washing the dishes had come to a complete halt.

"Because I want to paint and leave you with a messy kitchen." He switched ears. "Is that okay?"

My head started to lean to the side so he'd have better access to my ear. "Paint? Uh…"

"Yes. Paint."

I didn't care what he did as long as he didn't stop kissing me. _Wait a minute_ … I turned around and looked at him. Our faces were inches apart. "You want me to clean up your ravioli mess?" There were countless pots, bowls…flour everywhere.

He placed his lips against mine and whispered, "Yes." Then kissed me. It was a soft kiss of exploration and my insides started to churn as his tongue snaked between my lips and started twirling with my own.

I sighed and placed my hands on the kitchen counter. One, because they were wet and two, because I was afraid that my knees would buckle. "Okay."

He pulled away from me and his whole face lit up with a smile. "Really? I didn't think you'd say yes."

"Well, I did. So leave now before I change my mind." _And so I can pull myself together_.

"Thanks." He placed a quick peck on my cheek and headed for the door.

I turned around and went back to washing dishes. Then his arms came around me again.

"Come over tonight." It was a statement. Not a question.

"You'll be painting."

"I don't care. Come over anyway." His lips were against my neck.

My eyes closed and I took it all in. His arms around my waist. His lips pressing up against my neck. His breath hot against my skin. "Alright." At this point he could talk me into just about anything. One last kiss on my chin and he was gone. The moment he shut the door I sat down on a kitchen chair. _I love him. At least I think I do. How do you know when you love someone?_ I began having a conversation, in my head, with myself _. Is this what girls in school talked about? I don't know. I never talked about boys when I was in school. So how do I know if I'm in love?_ I wanted to scream. Fortunately the ringing phone interrupted me. I just looked at it thinking, _is it Peeta? He just left. Does he want to talk to me again?_ Finally a voice in my head screamed, _answer it!_

"Katniss?"

"Mom." _Not Peeta_. It was good to hear my mother's voice, but my mind was racing right now. I wasn't sure that I'd be the best conversationalist.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine," _I guess_.

"When we spoke the other night about Annie, I didn't even think about what day it was or how you were holding up. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." _This is not a conversation I want to have right now_. "I'm fine mom. Seriously, I'm fine." Maybe if I said it enough times I would be.

The line was silent for a few seconds and then she said, "Katniss, you don't sound fine. You sound like something's wrong."

"No. Not wrong exactly." _Do I talk to my mother about this? She's my mom. She should know about these things._

"Then what is it…exactly?"

I took a deep breath and asked her, "How do you know when you're in love?" The moment the words left my mouth I regretted saying them. I sounded foolish.

"Oh…well…"

_Why did I ask her?_

"I'm guessing it's Peeta we're talking about," there was an annoying assumption in her statement.

"It's just a question, mom." Clearly it was easier to take out my frustrations on my mother than myself.

"Okay. Then I'll give you an answer." She paused and said, "You just know."

_Thanks a lot_! Sometimes I had to wonder about my mother.

"It's different for everyone, Katniss. Some people just know and others…well they figure it out eventually."

"Am I a figure it out eventually person?"

"I can't tell you that. The only person that knows what you're feeling in your heart is you."

"But that's just it. I don't know. I mean I think I know…I'm not sure though…" Why I was still talking about this, let alone with my mother, I'd never know.

"All I can tell you is how I felt with your father."

_That's good. Tell me that._ She was so in love with my father she practically let Prim and I starve to death after he died. I'm not sure why I thought this was a good thing, but for this particular scenario, it was the best I had. "So tell me about you and dad."

"Your father," she cleared her voice and started again. "Your father was the love of my life, Katniss. He made me laugh at one of the worst points of my life."

"When was that?"

"After Maysilee died."

_Oh. I never knew that_.

"All of our friends would sit around and talk about her, but I couldn't. Neither could her sister. I started to become quite sullen and then one day your father talked to me."

"What did he say?"

"He said he was sorry that I lost my friend. The next day he walked me home. And the next and the next…" Her voice sounded airy. "Then one day I spotted some mockingjays in the schoolyard and I told him about Maysilee's pin. He brought me closer to them and started to sing to them. And…"

"They all fell silent." I remembered Peeta's words.

"Yes."

"So that's when you knew you loved him?"

"Yes, but it wasn't just that, Katniss. Your father he made me a better person. He made me…he made me happy. I couldn't imagine my life without him."

This was why my mother was so lost when my father died. She loved him more than I could understand back then, but now I got it. In fact, I understood a little too well how she let herself get so bad and I could no longer blame her for it.

"The question is, Katniss…do you feel that way about Peeta?"

"I didn't say it was Peeta." I mumbled.

"You didn't have to."

_Am I really an open book? This is exactly why everyone kept things from me during the Games_.

"The only advice I can give you is take your time. You're still young. You don't need to rush into anything. Just enjoy it for a while. Don't over analyze your feelings. Just let them…happen. You'll figure it out eventually"

_I guess I am one of those people_.

Maybe my mom was the right choice to talk to after all. We said our goodbyes and I finished cleaning the kitchen. My mind continued to race, questioning things. _Was I happy? Yes. I was_. Peeta made me very happy. Still, that didn't mean that I was in love. Yes, I love him. Of course I do. Who wouldn't love Peeta? But being _in_ love is a completely different story. _Maybe I should stay home tonight?_ I'm telling myself this as I begin to pack a bag with my toothbrush, pajamas and a change of clothing. _I should probably just stay away from him until I know exactly how I feel_. This is going through my head as I'm knocking on his door. When he opens it up and smiles at me I automatically smile back. _Yes. He makes me very happy._

"What's in the bag?" He took it out of my hands and started carrying it into the house.

"Clothes…toothbrush… just stuff." I'm going to do what my mother suggested. I'm going to just try and enjoy my time with him. Not over think things. I'm feeling like myself again.

"Planning on staying the night?" He grinned at me as he walked upstairs.

"I thought about it." I said jokingly. "But I don't have to. I can go home if you like?"

"Don't you dare!" He throws my bag on a chair and said, "Why did you bring pajamas? I kind of liked the way you looked in my shirt."

My face must've turned seven shades of red because I could feel the heat radiating from my cheeks. "I…uh…umm…." The nerves were back.

He laughed a little and told me he was going to finish cleaning his paint brushes.

I was so nervous. No. Terrified was more like it. How do you stop thinking about love? _I should've stayed home_. "Peeta? Do you want some tea?"

"Sure," he called out to me. "But I don't have any. I keep forgetting to pick it up."

"What about milk?" I needed something to calm my stomach. "Do you have any of that?"

"Yeah, but I'll get it for you, Katniss."

"No. I can do it." I had to do something to keep myself occupied. "Or I can run home and grab some tea."

"If you want tea than that's fine."

This was a good excuse to go back to my house for the night.

"I'd rather you stayed though." He walked up to me and kissed the tip of my nose as he passed me. _There goes that plan_.

Peeta made me some warm milk and then we talked for a little while. His sessions with Dr. Aurelius would be coming to an end in just over a month or so. Even though he's got lasting effects from the Capitol's hijacking. It's just something we'll have to deal with for the rest of our lives. I kept asking him questions. Questions about stupid inconsequential things just to avoid going to bed. Finally when we're so tired, I think, _all we'll do is fall asleep when we go to bed. No kissing_. I'm relieved.

"Where's my bag?" I asked him.

"It's in my room. You can go up. I'm going to shut the lights off and lock the door."

I walked into his room and lying on top of my bag is the shirt I wore the night it rained. His shirt. I picked it up and took it into the bathroom with me. _Was he joking? Did he want me to wear this? I feel so…so…naked when I wear this. It's just a shirt Katniss. Yes. His shirt!_ I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. I had no clue who this girl was I was staring at. She wasn't confident. She wasn't strong. She certainly wasn't a survivor. I heard my mother's words in my head. _"Just enjoy it._ " A few deep breaths, some cold water splashed on my face and I was back to normal. For real this time. All of those questions I'd been asking myself today were pointless, silly really. The fact was that I wanted to be here with Peeta. There was no place else I'd rather be. So I buttoned up his shirt. Put my hair in two braids instead of one and went to bed.

The look on his face when I walked into the room was one I'll never forget. He started to say something to me, but all that came out was a "Bwah," sound.

"I'm done in the bathroom if you need it." Confident Katniss was back. _I really missed her tonight_.

"Thanks," his eyes were following me as I walked around the bed.

When he came to bed I rolled over and curled up into him. "Goodnight, Peeta." I leaned up and kissed his chin. _Yes. I like this much, much better_.

"Katniss?"

"Yes."

"I like your hair."

I smiled before closing my eyes and falling asleep. When I opened them up it wasn't because of a nightmare, but because I could feel the coolness of the mattress next to me as I slept. "Peeta?" I said quietly then noticed the light in the hallway. I followed the thin stream until it led me to Peeta's little studio. "Hey," I said from the doorway, not wanting to step into it and see the nightmares that were painted onto the canvases.

"Katniss," he dropped his paintbrush into a glass jar and wiped his hands off on a rag. "You okay?"

"I woke up and you weren't there." I hated sounding so desperate and needy, but I was. At least when it came to Peeta I was. "Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he pressed his lips against my forehead and I rested my palms against his chest. "I'll clean up…" he began to pull away, but I held him in place. I wasn't quite ready to let him go even if it was only for a few minutes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I answered. And there was nothing wrong with me. Actually, there was, but it wasn't something I was prepared to discuss. "Guess I just don't like waking up alone."

"If you let me clean my paintbrushes I'll come back to bed with you, okay?" He offered, but it was obvious he had wanted to paint for some reason.

"Did you have a nightmare?" I asked him as he went through the procedure of cleaning his brushes.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because you looked so peaceful," he dipped a brush into something clear and I could see the color seeping from the brush causing a streak of green to flow through the fluid. He followed it up with another brush and I could see the color red. Soon the colors had turned the clear liquid to black and I couldn't seem to keep my eyes off of it. I waited until he was done and heading in my direction before lifting my eyes to him. "I've got to wash my hands; I've got some paint on them." He brushed past me and headed for the bathroom. I climbed into bed and waited under the covers for him to show up, all the while keeping my eyes glued to the bathroom door in the master bedroom suite. "I need to change," he said as he walked out without a shirt. "Got paint on that too."

I stared at his torso for a second and noticed the burn mark that streaked from his stomach, around his ribs and towards his back. I had a desire to run my fingers across it. To ask him if it still bothered him. Before I knew it I asked, "Do you ever think about that day?"

"What day?" He asked as he pulled a white t-shirt from his dresser.

"The day you got that," I pointed at the scar.

He looked down at his stomach, ran his hand across the burn mark and then ran his finger over another I hadn't noticed. "I try not to think about how I got these. If I do then I wind up…" he started to hem and haw. "Uh...um..."

"Wind up what?"

"It makes me...angry," his eyes met mine and I knew why he avoided thinking about it. He was afraid he'd have a flashback and take the memories of that day out on me. "Do you think about it?"

"All the time," I got to my knees and made my way to the edge of the bed. "My nightmares are filled with visions of that day."

He reached a hand out to me and brushed his knuckles against my cheek. "One day you'll have dreams so beautiful you'll be bursting to tell me about them." His soft voice matched the glow of the stars shimmering through the sheer panels of the open window. "Can you imagine a day like that, Katniss?" I couldn't, but the picture he began to draw for me with his words made me think that one day it would be possible. "Imagine going to sleep at night and when you closed your eyes you'd fall into a peaceful slumber, filled with visions of bluebirds and robins flitting about on a spring morning from branch to branch, as new buds began to blossom. Can you see it?" I closed my eyes and tried to picture it behind closed lids. "Feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, Katniss." He must've leaned closer to me because the only warmth I could feel was his breath against my cheek as he spoke. "Can you hear the birds singing? They're putting to melody the promise of a new day." He paused. "In your dreams you can fly with them. Spread your wings and take to the sky. You can be free to sing...to feel the wind blowing...to soar. One day," I opened my eyes and saw Peeta's gentle features only a few inches away from me, "you'll be able to dream of so much beauty...of...joy...happiness...love. You'll be able to smile...laugh without feeling guilt and darkness won't be your enemy anymore, Katniss. You won't be afraid of what bedtime brings." His thumb brushed across my bottom lip just as his head dipped towards mine. As our lips met, his hand gliding across the side of my cheek and curling around the back of my head. The shirt he held in his hand fell to the floor as he lifted first one knee onto the bed, and then the other. I slid my hands up his bare back and returned his tender kiss, finding myself completely lost in the fullness of his lips and how masterfully he used them. Our heads began to tilt as one kiss turned into another and another after that. They were nothing like the kiss on the sofa...the kind I craved and feared all at once. This time when Peeta kissed me he took his time bathing the interior of my mouth with the lavish strokes of his tongue. I thought about what he had said earlier in the day, in regards to tasting a new recipe, and realized that he was doing that very thing. He was tasting me. Savoring the flavor of...me. He pulled away from me, but our eyes stayed locked together, and he lay down on the bed, gently tugging on my hand for me to follow his lead. The nerves I had felt earlier in the evening were nothing compared to what I was feeling in that second. I had no clue if Peeta was going to continue kissing me again, or if we were going to go back to sleep. Though my head was saying, _go back to sleep_ , my insides were crying out for his lips to press against mine once again. I had to take a breath as we lay facing each other, not because Peeta did what I wanted...because he kissed me again, but because he didn't. Instead he took on that intense look that makes his bright blue eyes turn into a stormy sky and began caressing my face with his gaze. Eventually his fingers traced my brows, the hollow of my throat, a spot behind my ear and ran down my braids. My hands got their fill of his hair, his back and his jaw. I had never really given much thought to these parts of his body before, but now I couldn't stop thinking about them. The way he got this tight little knot in the hinge of his jaw when his ire got worked up...he grit his teeth, or he was concentrating on something. In this instance I could feel that tiny little knot tensing up beneath the pads of my fingertips as our lips met and the kiss quickly went from slow and tender to wildly passionate. The way his shoulder blades flexed beneath the palm of my hand as he pulled me closer to him, holding my body against his, and the way he tasted. It was a mixture of sleep, warm milk and... _Peeta_. I sighed just as his mouth brushed up against mine. I thought of the first time we had kissed each other, and the fever that had caused his lips to burn with uncontrollable heat. The heat that radiated from his mouth now had nothing to do with any form of illness or injury and everything to do with me. The mere thought of this caused my stomach to flutter and my fingers to dig into his arms. As he pulled away from me a terrible sensation of emptiness began to stir inside of me that I wasn't too crazy about.

"I'm starting to think you actually like me, Katniss," he grinned and placed a soft peck against my still parted mouth.

"I'm still not convinced you like me," I wasn't sure where this playful person came from, but Peeta seemed to bring her out in me.

"Eh...you're all right," he said with a straight face then lay back and let out a bit of laughter.

"Shut up," I nudged him a little with my elbow and rested my cheek against his bare chest where his heart beat strong. "Go to sleep." I said it, but I didn't mean it. I had no desire to go to sleep. No, all of my desires were now centered on the man holding me in his arms, and the irrational beating of my heart.

"Oh, I plan on it now that you've given me something to dream about," he let out a small chuckle again and I could feel myself blushing against his naked chest.

"Peeta," my voice was quiet, yet it seemed to boom through the still bedroom, "Will you..." I wanted to ask him to kiss me again, but I couldn't seem to find the courage to do so. "Umm..." I had to think of something to say, and I was at a complete loss.

"Did you want something, Katniss?"

The first thing that popped into my mind was, _yes. You_. "No. Never mind." I closed my eyes and tried to put the intense feelings that filled the pit of my stomach, out of mind.

"I want something," his voice echoed through his chest and into my ear.

"What?" I asked nervously.

"I want you to kiss you again." His words had my insides jumping up and down. "I know you probably don't want me to-"

"No," my head shot up. "No," I ducked my eyes downward, unable to hold the gaze that was fixated on me. "I like it when you kiss me." There. I had admitted it out loud, and I wasn't quite sure if I regretted it or if I was happy I had made the choice to share...well, sort of share, my feelings with him until he rolled me onto my back and brushed his lips against mine. I sighed into his mouth and let my hands rest at his waist.

"Katniss," the way he said my name made me think of the clouds we had watched floating in the sky while sitting in the meadow.

"Yes," I answered him between soft pecks.

"Nothing," he smiled into my mouth and ran his hand over the side of my face then let it travel down my shoulder and back up again. "I just like saying your name. Katniss," he said like a warm breeze on a spring day. My heart raced when his eyes drifted closed and his lips found mine. Never, in my entire life, had anyone said my name simply because they wanted to hear it. It was little things like this that had me questioning whether or not Peeta and I were right for each other and why I was so confused about loving him. We were so different. Even though he had gone through Snow's torture and was left with devastating effects, I was still the one with the short fuse. The one that lost her temper at the drop of a hat. I was the one that expected the worst in every scenario and Peeta was the one that never lost sight of what could be. He never lost hope. My mind continued to race as his tongue dipped inside of my mouth and whatever apprehensions I was building up in my mind about us, quickly disappeared into thin air. In short, Peeta kissed me senseless.

I spent two nights at Peeta's while he worked on his painting. The next few nights were spent at my house. Each night he'd leave out a clean shirt of his to wear, but no matter how many times he washed them, his scent still lingered on the fabric. Each morning he'd wake up early to bake bread and he'd kiss me. A light peck on the lips just to say he was headed downstairs to start baking. On hunting days, I'd wake up with him and head out early.

"Katniss," he called to me as he stood at my counter with his hands in a bowl of something. "Hurry up. Come here."

I quickly rushed to his aid. "What's wron..." His lips silenced mine.

"Okay," he grinned and went back to kneading dough. "Disaster averted."

It was hard for me not to smile, but I kept it to myself. I headed for the front door; my bow was slung over my shoulder as I turned to face him. "Hey," I called to him and when his eyes met mine it was what I imagined being struck by a bolt of lightning would feel like. I was so grateful he was here with me. So thankful he was back in my life and that we were working through our grief together. I'm not sure how long I stood there staring at him, but it must have been a while because he was the one that had to say something to remind me I was the one that had called out to him.

"Katniss, were you going to ask me something?"

"Oh...um..." If he had said it, if he had said, I love you right then, I'm pretty sure I would have said it back. "Need me to bring anything back?"

"Just yourself. Now go so you can hurry up and come home. I miss you already."

As I made my way to the woods I found that I missed him too. I didn't like being without him. I'm not sure how we had accomplished it, but somehow we had turned things around for the better. And as I thought of the way things were progressing between us, I came to a realization. One that probably would have made me ashamed a month or two earlier, but not so much anymore. Life was...good.

Time passed by. Hours turning to days and days to weeks. We began forming a routine of sorts. Spending nights at each other's houses. Spending certain hours of the day at Haymitch's or he'd stop by our place and though I said Peeta and I weren't living together, we had yet to spend barely a waking, or sleeping moment apart.

The first thing I thought of, when I opened my eyes was, _no nightmares_. The second thing was, _I hate it when I wake up alone_. _He was here with me last night so where is he this morning? He knows I don't like it when he just leaves without saying goodbye_. I could feel the scowl forming on my face as I gripped the covers in my fist. That's when I heard him. No, them. Peeta and Haymitch were shouting at one another. Not full out yelling, but more of a subdued, trying to keep it quiet fight. _Flashback! No!_ I jumped out of bed and ran to Peeta's aid. He hadn't had one for two weeks. And the first time he has one, I'm upstairs getting angry with him for leaving me without saying goodbye. As I ran down the stairs I called out his name. "Peeta!"

He turned around and looked at me with concern on his face. "What's wrong? Are you okay, Katniss?"

I ran up to him and just looked into his eyes. Searching for the darkness he battled, and finding none. "What's…" I looked at Haymitch. "What's going on?" Clearly Peeta was fine. If anything, he was more worried about how I was doing. "Why are you up?" I had an accusing tone towards Haymitch. "It's still morning." My eyes darted between the pair. Something was definitely going on.

"Be nice, Katniss," Peeta scolded me. What could I say? I never was a morning person.

"Well it's true." I watched as Haymitch and Peeta kept exchanging glances back and forth until finally I couldn't take it anymore. "Okay. Is somebody going to tell me what happened?" I started thinking the worst. _Something is wrong with my mother. The Games are back on. Annie's baby died_. It's amazing how many repulsive thoughts can go through a person's mind in the span of a few seconds.

"Sit down, sweetheart." Haymitch's voice was too nice. Too…sweet. Haymitch isn't sweet. Not to me anyway.

"I don't want to sit down." I glared at Peeta and said, "Tell me right now. What happened? Is my mother alright?"

Haymitch spoke up. "She's fine. It's just…I've got to take a trip to the Capitol for a little while."

_That's it? Haymitch is going to the Capitol and they're acting like my best friend died._ "So what?" I breathed a huge sigh of relief, rolled my eyes and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. "Have a great time. Eat some lamb stew for me." I began to chuckle at that. Haymitch would probably spend the entire time drunk then puking up the delicacies of the Capitol.

"Katniss, you don't understand. Haymitch is leaving." Peeta tried to explain this to me like I was an idiot.

"That's what I thought. My first clue was when he said he was taking a trip." _Are they under some misconception that I can't survive without Haymitch around? I'm sure I'd get over it eventually. Sure District Twelve wouldn't be the same without him. He's the only mentor left but… Oh no. He's my mentor_. The glass I was lifting to my lips stopped dead in its tracks. "You're leaving?" _This can't be. If he leaves then what happens to me?_ "What does that mean?" I kept swallowing the lump that was forming in my throat. "What's going to happen to me? Do I have to go too? I don't want to go." I began to protest.

They both began saying no at the same time.

"So I can stay here?" There was hope yet.

"Yes, but…" Haymitch looked at Peeta.

"Katniss, the court won't let you stay here unsupervised so they're sending someone in Haymitch's place."

"Okay." There was a tremor in my voice. I was still nervous. _Effie? Johanna? President Paylor herself? Please not Plutarch._

Peeta walked over to me and took the glass from my hand and said, "It's Gale, Katniss."

_No. Gale worked in District Two. He's not coming back here_.

Peeta continued, "His mother and brothers are moving into one of the houses in Victor's Village and since he's going to be here-"

It took a moment for this information to register. "I don't want to see him. I don't think I can." I hadn't yet worked out what I thought about Gale other than his overzealous hatred of the Capitol caused him to create a bomb. A bomb that was used to kill my sister. Whether he knew Coin was planning on using it or not, I could never be certain. Either way, he was the root of the problem, and the mere mention of his coming back to Twelve ripped open the wounds I had spent months trying to heal. "No. You can just stay. You don't have to go, Haymitch."

"I'm afraid I do, sweetheart. The court wants to revisit the terms of your release."

"You mean they want me to go to jail or something?" This was worse. I couldn't go to jail. What would happen to Peeta? I was sure I was going to puke right then and there. I don't know where the leader of the rebellion was, but she wasn't standing in my kitchen.

"No. This is a good thing," Haymitch tried to sound encouraging. Not his strong suit.

"Katniss, this is good news. If things work out then you won't need someone to…" Peeta looked for the right words.

"Babysit me?" I found them. "Why can't Peeta watch me? He already does anyway. I barely even see you." I pointed at Haymitch accusingly.

"Katniss, I'm still under doctor's care. They won't let me."

My voice started to sound shrill. "Well ask!"

"I did," said Haymitch. "I asked them if Effie could come. Johanna… Even your mother, but with Annie just having the baby and all-"

"No. No she can't come." I started to chew on my lip.

"There is one option, Katniss." Peeta said. "And I think it's a good choice." He paused and then added, "They will allow you to go to District Four and stay with your mother until Haymitch gets an answer."

This was good. I could go see my mom. Peeta and I could visit Annie and see the baby. "When can we leave?" I looked to Peeta, awaiting an answer.

"No, Katniss. I can't go with you. You'd have to stay in your mom's house the whole time and they don't want us to be together until they're sure that we won't start any…cause any…"

"I don't understand. Why can't we go together? My mom would let you stay with us." None of this was making any sense to me.

"You don't get it, sweetheart. The Capitol wants to make sure that you're okay in the head and until they decide otherwise, you're on probation." He pointed to the shirt I was wearing. Peeta's shirt and said, "So no conjugal visits outside of District Twelve." If looks could kill, Haymitch would be dead were he stood.

"Then I can't go." I knew this for a fact. If I weren't in District Twelve than who would help Peeta?

"Yes you can. You should go, Katniss. Go see your mom." Peeta tried to encourage me.

"I can't." I switched to biting my cheek instead of my lip once I tasted the saltiness of the blood on the tip of my tongue.

"Why not?" Peeta urged me.

"Because…" I looked into his eyes and said, "I can't leave you." He sighed and began to protest, but I stopped him. "No. Peeta. I won't leave you."

"Told you," Haymitch said to Peeta. "Then you'll have to stay here and Gale will be your guardian until I hear otherwise."

"Gale," I mumbled his name. "I won't really have to see him though." _Why should I? Haymitch is never here. Well he's here, but I ignore him_. My mind was reeling. "If I don't want to…I mean…I won't will I, Peeta?" I looked to him hoping he had the answers.

"I don't know, Katniss."

Haymitch just shrugged his shoulders. "Depends on how strict the rules are that he sets for you."

"Rules?" I was never any good with rules.

The look on Haymitch's face didn't give me much hope either. "Gale will be your guardian while he's here. So what he says goes."

"You mean I have to do _everything_ he says?"

"As long as it's not something outrageous and we all agree to it. Then yeah, sweetheart."

"When?" _Do I really want to know when he's showing up, or should I just pretend like he's not coming here? That he was never there at all? No. He'll be helping his family move into Victor's Village_. "Oh my God." The reality hit me like a ton of bricks. "They're going to be our neighbors," I choked out before my throat closed completely off.

Peeta took me in his arms and kissed my head. "We can get through this." I was sniffling. My arms just hung limply to my sides. "We can, Katniss."

_No we can't. I don't know how to get through this. I still don't know how I'll feel when I see Gale again. Or his family. His family. He didn't lose any brothers or sisters. Not like Peeta, Haymitch and I did_. My hatred began to bubble deep within. It quickly subsided when I realized that I was glad his family was alive. I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

Peeta lifted up my face, "Look at me." I raised my eyes to his. "We can get through anything as long as we're together, right?"

I had told him this not too long ago. Told him those words exactly. I should resent them being thrown back in my face, but I didn't. I believed Peeta. I believed him wholeheartedly. "Together?" I didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but it did.

"Together," he confirmed.

Three days. I had three days before Gale and his family would be taking up residency in our little village. Gale would go back to District Two eventually, but the rest of his family would be here permanently. During those three days the nightmares of Prim's death were a constant battle. I could feel myself trying to scream, but no sound would come out. I was frozen in the middle of the beach arena, standing at the edge of the little island the Cornucopia sat on. There was an overabundance of arrows on my back and I was armed with my bow, but my fingers couldn't move. Nothing could. I could see the tall figure, dressed in the same wetsuit the rest of us tributes had been provided, racing towards Prim. I watched as a hand lifted her head by the chin and with one swift move, sliced open her throat. There was blood dripping from the blade as my voice finally called out, "PRIIIIM!" The tribute standing over her wasn't like the rest of us. He wasn't a victor. He was tall, with dark hair and Seam gray eyes. Bile rose to the top of my throat when the reality of who it was that had killed my sister, dawned on me. "Gale," I gasped. "Why?" I tried to move towards Prim. To run to her aid, but my feet were held captive by the flecks of golden sand. "PRIM!" I screamed out once more, hoping she would open her eyes and press something against the gaping wound that had drained the life from her. "PEEEEEEETAAAAAAAAA!" I yelled out to the only person I knew would be able to help me get to my sister, but the fear that the other tribute...Gale would harm him too, petrified me. "PRIIIIM! PRIIIIIIIIIIM!"

"Katniss," I could hear Peeta's voice talking to me in the arena. "Shhh...shhh."

"Help her! Please, Peeta. Please," I begged him through the sobs that were now wracking my body. "Prim," there was no more blood flowing from the gaping wound in her throat. Her frail body was sickly white and the slice in her neck smiled up at me like a horrifying nightmare.

"Prim's gone, Katniss," Peeta spoke to me as his arms encircled my body. "She's safe now. No one can hurt her anymore."

My eyes began to flutter open, and I saw Peeta staring down at me with a look of sorrow pasted across his face. "Peeta?" I choked out his name and threw myself into his arms. "Ga...Gale..." I was panting out my former friend's name. Trying my best to tell Peeta what I had seen in my sleep.

"Shhh," he stroked the hair away from my sweaty brow. "You don't have to tell me. It was just a bad dream." Peeta sat up and pulled me into his lap, pushed my face into his neck and pressed hard kisses against my temple, but I didn't want to feel this. I had no desire to feel safe or be comforted by anyone if my sister couldn't be. "Katniss," he called out to me when I began to fight his embrace. "Stop it," there was a calm in Peeta's voice that reminded me of Prim when she was presented with a sickly patient. "Don't fight me, Katniss. Just let me hold you. It'll be all right."

"No it won't!" I yelled at him. "She's dead! She's dead!" My entire body began to shake and I could no longer take in a breath. My eyes flew open as I gasped for air. My mother's training screamed out in the back of my mind that I was hyperventilating, but I couldn't seem to remember how to avoid getting to the point of unconsciousness.

"Slow breaths, Katniss," Peeta's voice guided me. "Look at me," one hand turned my face towards his, and the other had a death grip on my waist, as though he were afraid I would take off running. "Slow and steady breaths." He puckered his lips and demonstrated what he wanted me to do. Why I suddenly decided that I needed to listen to Peeta, I had no clue, but I did and soon enough I was able to take a deep breath again. "Oh, Katniss," Peeta let out a sigh of relief, "I wish I could take all the pain away for you."

"You should have let me take that pill," I closed my eyes and let my body sink against his.

"You know as well as I do, that was never a solution." And I did know this, but sometimes the thought of never having to face the pain of losing Prim is so much more welcome than being alive. "Come on. Why don't you lie down?"

I refused Peeta's offer, and shook my head, almost violently, from side to side. If I went back to sleep there was a good possibility that I'd wind up back in the second arena with Prim's throat being slashed, like Wiress' had been.

"Let's go downstairs then, okay?"

I followed Peeta down the steps and into the living room. I thought he'd try and make me lie down on the sofa, so I was preparing myself for a fight, but then he sat down in the rocker and pulled me down into his lap. I could feel his foot pressing against the floor, rocking us back and forth in a slow glide. I don't know why I thought of Peeta's prosthetic. For the life of me, I couldn't remember which leg was his and which had been attached by the Capitol. My hands reached down, and started patting at his knees. "Which one is it?" I asked shakily.

Peeta lifted his leg and said, "Real."

"Okay," there was a sense of relief now that I knew. It was stupid. I know that, but it gave me something to think about other than Prim.

"Rest your head here," he pressed my cheek against his shoulder and I closed my eyes. "When I was a boy, I thought it would be okay to sneak bits of frosting while decorating a cake." This was what I needed. The soothing tone of Peeta's voice to pull me out of the pit of despair. "My brothers used to sneak it, so I thought it would be okay if I did it too. Naturally I had to make sure my mother never caught me or I knew I'd get in big trouble." His hand stroked at my head, holding it against his shoulder, while the other held me on his lap. "The day she caught me, I did get in trouble, but it wasn't because I tasted the frosting. It was because I wasn't using a spoon. As it turned out, I was supposed to taste each batch of frosting I made, as well as the ones I tinted with food coloring, to make sure it didn't affect the flavor." Soon I found myself lost in Peeta's world. I was standing next to him in the bakery as a child. I could see him wearing his flour covered apron and piping different decorations onto layer upon layer of cake. "After doing this over and over again each day, my mother decided that my cakes were the nicest and that I should be the one to do all the decorating, well...you ever have too much sugar, Katniss?" Up until I went into the Games, I had barely had sugar. Not wanting to disturb the tranquility of his voice, I shook my head, no, in response to his question. "Too much sugar doesn't sit well with a person's intestines. I got pretty sick that first day my mother had me tasting the frosting. By the end of the week, my stomach did a flop at the thought of taking one more bite of icing. My dad told me that you get used to it after a while and I did, but till this day, I can still remember how sick I got from all that frosting."

"That's why you don't like sweets," I took a deep breath in, and when I blew it out, I could feel all the muscles in my body relaxing.

"That's why I don't like sweets," Peeta confirmed. "Go to sleep, Katniss." Those were the last words I heard before the sound of my own voice screeching out Prim's name once again. I was up within an hour of falling asleep, screaming as I saw my sister being blown to bits in front of my eyes and Gale in a Peacekeeper's uniform. Any progress I had made on dealing with my sister's death was out the window. I was a basket case again and poor Peeta had to try and pick up the pieces.

Haymitch stopped by the night before he left to say goodbye and to tell me the rules that had been set for me while he was away. If I was to go outside of Victor's Village I needed adult supervision. Peeta was eighteen now so he was allowed to supervise me. If I go into the woods then my guardian, Gale, would have to supervise me. And I was to be in my house between the hours of 8pm and 6am every night unless my guardian approves otherwise. Haymitch assured me that he would call the moment he got word from the court about my probation. Either I would be a completely free woman or I'd be under his constant supervision again. If it was the latter, they'd revisit the decision again in six months.

Apparently Plutarch has been quite vocal, as well as Effie, about revisiting my probationary terms.

_Oh Effie. How I wish it were you babysitting me. I'd mind my manners. I'd use my fork and knife. I'd lay my napkin in my lap and I'd make you proud_. I'd even take my entire prep team plucking me like a chicken over Gale. At this point, I welcomed the thought of Johanna and her oiled up body strolling around Victor's Village in the nude. _Maybe Peeta could paint her after all._ But none of them were coming. It was Gale. Though I had seen him after Prim's death, this visit seemed to be worse. Perhaps because I was healing. Because I wasn't dwelling on her murder every day. I was starting to rebuild my life with Peeta and now all of those thoughts. All of those feelings were the furthest thing from my mind.

The day the train arrived with Gale and his family, I went to Peeta's house. I didn't want to be home. I didn't want to see them moving in and Peeta's house had a worse view of their new abode than mine did. I heard the commotion outside, but I ignored it. Peeta took me to his bedroom, which was at the back of the house and overlooked his garden and we lied in each other's arms. He told me stories of his childhood. Happy stories about his brothers and the pranks they'd pull on each other. About the first time his father discovered that Peeta had an artistic eye. He told me about a time that he watched me in the lunchroom while I was eating with Madge. It took my mind off of things. He even made me smile a couple of times. Something I didn't think would be possible. As the day progressed the knots in my stomach got tighter and tighter. I was going to be sick. I just knew it. When we heard the knock on the door my heart sank.

Peeta stood up and told me, "Stay here. I'll get it." Shortly after, he came upstairs with a tray and some food on it. "Sae brought you some soup. I made you some tea and there's some toast too."

"I can't eat."

"You have to eat something, Katniss. You've hardly touched a thing in three days." He sat on the edge of the bed and placed the tray over my lap. "At least have the toast and tea."

I nodded, but I couldn't do it. I could feel the tears building up in my eyes. I was losing it. _Maybe I should just go and face him and get it over with_. This waiting was hell. Yet I was unmoving. Peeta lifted up the toast and made me take a few bites, then held the cup of tea up to my lips. The second knock of the night would not be Greasy Sae.

"I'll get it." Peeta took the tray and walked downstairs. I could hear their voices, but not their words. Eventually it got louder and then there was a slam. Peeta's door no doubt.

When Peeta came back into the room I didn't have to ask him what happened. I could see the defeatist look in his eyes. "You need to come downstairs, Katniss."

"Is he there?"

"No. He's outside."

"Why's he outside? Do I have to go outside?" It wasn't 8:00pm yet.

"No you don't. You can stay in here, but until you tell me differently, he's not invited into my home."

For some reason this statement from Peeta made me proud. It gave me confidence. Peeta had provided a sanctuary for me.

"We can get through this…" I took his hand, "together."

We walked down the stairs hand in hand and headed towards his front door. When Peeta opened it up, Gale stood on the other side of it. He was dressed nicely. Too nicely for someone that was moving. I glanced up and noticed that he wasn't doing the moving. He'd hired some of the local men to do it.

Gale looked at me with a familiar boyish grin and said, "Hey there, Catnip."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr I'm jamiesommers23 and if you're into Joshifer follow joshiferrecs on tumblr for an assortment of Joshifer fics including my very first foray into the pairing entitled Intimate Strangers.


	8. Cheese Buns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss and Peeta have to find a way to deal with Gale's ever looming presence in District Twelve.

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Eight: Cheese Buns**

**Thank you to S (breadberriesandtoastbabies on Tumblr) for doing such a quick beta on this latest chapter. You rock baby girl!**

**Sorry the updates have been taking me so long. I was sort of burnt out on Everlark and couldn't quite find my mojo, but it's back and I should be updating regularly now.**

**Previously: Gale was assigned to watch over Katniss while Haymitch traveled to the Capitol. Katniss is having a difficult time with the idea of Gale being thrust back into her life.**

  
  


**And now the next installment of......**

  
  


**The Road to Recovery**

The first words out of my mouth were, "Don't call me that." The familiar name, Catnip reminded me too much of the life we had when District Twelve was fully populated. When Gale was my best friend. When Prim was alive.

Gale just stood at Peeta's door staring at me with a tiny smirk on his face. My whole body was shaking. I tried to tell myself, _this is Gale. He was your friend. You grew up with him_. The only problem was I felt like I didn't know him at all anymore. His appearance alone made him look like a complete stranger. His clothes. His haircut. It was all too perfect for my former friend. Where was the boy who would sit in the woods with me for hours? _I can't imagine you'd make it ten minutes in the woods now, Gale._

"Okay,” Gale said with a hint of inquisition in his tone. “Hello, Katniss. Can I come in?"

I looked at Peeta, praying that he would read my mind and felt a tug of relief when he answered, "No."

"Well you can't keep her here forever, Peeta.” Gale said with a smug expression. “Her curfew is in an hour and then she'll have to come out." I wanted to smack the condescending grin off of Gale's face. I had to wonder, _Did he think this was a game? Was he actually enjoying this?_

"Then at 8:00,” Peeta said in my defense, “we'll go to her house and if she wants to let you in, that's up to her. But this is _my_ house and you're currently not welcom inside of it." I gripped Peeta's hand tightly.

"Fine. Let me know when you walk her home and then I'll talk to her." Gale smiled at me again only this time it was a bit more tight, and said, "It's good to see you, Catni…Katniss."

Peeta shut the door and I turned to face him. "I don't feel good." The few bites of toast I ate were threatening to reappear.

"Come in here. Sit down." He got me a glass of ice water and told me to take little sips. "Listen, Katniss. We need to talk about something,” there was a seriousness in Peeta's tone I didn't care for.

"What is it now?"

"Gale doesn't think I should be staying with you. He's probably on his way home to call the Capitol and talk to them to see if he can do anything about it. Unfortunately, Haymitch is on a train right now so he can't help us."

"He can't do that.” The idea of not spending the night next to Peeta terrified me. “Did he tell you that?"

"In so many words. Yes,” Peeta answered.

"When?" They only spoke for a few seconds before Peeta came upstairs, but now I knew why their voices had raised.

"I told him that I'd grab my things and we'd go home, but he said, that I didn't live with you so…"

This couldn't be happening. I tried to think of the last time Peeta and I hadn't slept in the same bed together. One night a few weeks ago when he was painting, but he was down the hall then and all I had to do was walk a few feet to get to him. "He's going to have to let you stay with me,” I knew I sounded frantic, but I didn't care. Gale could not win this particular battle. “It's my house. If I want to have guests then that's my choice. He can't dictate my entire life." When I had moved back to District Twelve I didn't think twice about my comings and goings. Haymitch didn't care what I did unless he thought I might hurt myself. The three words I never thought I'd utter came spilling out of my mouth, "I miss Haymitch."

"We'll see what we can do,” Peeta said. “We still have some friends in the Capitol too you know. I'm going to make a few calls."

I sat on the chair sipping water as Peeta got in touch with Effie, Plutarch and eventually spoke directly to President Paylor. "I don't understand this. Katniss is fine. She's doing much better now.” I was only privy to Peeta's side of the conversation and couldn't quite follow what was being said. “Uh huh…okay,” Peeta was listening to our new president intently. “No. No, she wouldn't want you to do that….Because I know her and she'd never want you to jeopardize your position as President,” It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the president had offered to give us authorization and override any decision made by those in charge of my well being. “All I need is the okay for me to spend my nights at Katniss' house,” Peeta said. “Technically I guess we are…No. Neither one of us did,” he glanced in my direction with a look of disappointment on his face, and I feared the worst. I could barely pay attention to the rest of Peeta's conversation with her as my thoughts jumbled around in my head. “Okay…okay…great. Thank you. Thank you so much. We'll let you know when we decide." He hung up.

"When we decide what? What did she say?" I was gnawing on the inside of my cheek as though it were my last meal.

Peeta took a deep breath and said, "We never ended our engagement."

"Huh?" I was about to be stuck in my house for ten hours straight, with no human contact and Peeta was asking me to marry him?

"Technically we're still engaged,” Peeta stood staring at me. “Neither one of us officially ended it, right?"

"I guess." I really didn't understand where he was going with this, but it was too late, Gale was knocking on the door. It was curfew time.

"Just follow my lead, Katniss," Peeta instructed. He opened the door and said, "Hi, Gale. We'll just be a minute. We need to get our things." He turned to me and asked, "Katniss is your toothbrush here or at your house?"

"Um…I don't know." Peeta picked up extra toothbrushes for each one of our bathrooms just the other day so I knew he was up to something.

"We'll go upstairs and check while I pack some clean clothes. All the clothes I have at your house need to be washed." Peeta did have some clothes at my house, but mostly it was shirts that I wore to sleep and some pajama pants. Neither one of us kept regular clothing at the other's house.

"Sorry, Peeta. No visitors allowed past curfew," Gale told him with a smirk.

My world was collapsing around me. I began doing an inventory of the rooms in my house, trying to figure out where the tiniest closet was so I could take up refuge in there for the night.

"I'm not a visitor. I'm her fiancé." The look on Gale's face was complete and utter shock. "Go on, Katniss,” Peeta said with a nod of his head. “Go get your things. We'll be staying at your house until we get permission to spend nights here too." Peeta left the door open while he walked upstairs with me. I didn't say a word. I just held his hand and let him lead me to his room.

We gathered as much as we could in the short period of time that we had. Pants, shirts, underclothes…whatever Peeta absolutely needed. We were both of one mind. Peeta wouldn't be leaving my side until Haymitch called with word from the court. "Okay,” Peeta said. “I think that's it for now. We can always come by during the day and grab what I need." He didn't have to follow up with the words, “if you're up to it,” but we both knew he was thinking it. Right now, all I felt like doing was crawling under my covers and waiting for Haymitch to get back. For Gale to leave. For the memory of Prim's brutal death to melt into darkness like snow in the rain.

Peeta took hold of my hand, guiding me back down the stairs. I felt horrible. This was Peeta's home. His paintbrushes...canvases...paints...his escape was here, but we could come back and get them during the day if we needed to. _You have to do that for him, Katniss. You can't let Peeta go without his paints._ I wasn't sure where I would put them, but we'd find a spot. I'd throw all of my furniture in the basement if I needed to, so Peeta could paint. I'd even open up the study again. "Your sketch pad." I ran back and got it. At least it was something.

We walked to my house, with Gale in our wake. The look of shock he had on his face was replaced by one of anger. I could hear Gale's siblings calling out my name, but I ignored them for now. I just needed to get home.

When we got to my house, Peeta said, "I'd invite you in, Gale, but this isn't my house and my fiancée isn't feeling well tonight." Then he closed the door on my former friend's face without so much as a goodnight.

Before I could get one word out Peeta was on the phone with my mother telling her to meet the train that Haymitch was on, early in the morning. They would be making a special stop in District Four for some seafood that the President requested. She was to casually mention to Haymitch that she was thrilled we hadn't called off our engagement. That we were going through with the wedding after all. If Haymitch didn't get it, then we were all screwed. But, I remembered, Haymitch and Peeta never flinched when it came to these things. I on the other hand was a total disaster. Once again, I had to put on a show.

When Peeta hung up the phone he turned and looked at me with sorrow filling his eyes. "I'm sorry, Katniss. When President Paylor asked me if either one of us ever broke off our engagement… I just knew what she was implying."

"So now we have to pretend again?" I was just starting to work through my feelings for Peeta and now they'd be completely clouded with lies.

"Not really, Katniss. We don't have to pretend how we feel about each other." He looked into my eyes and took a deep breath. "Do we?"

He was asking me how I felt. I asked myself, _Did he want to be engaged to me? Why couldn't he have asked me this days ago? Before I found out about Gale's return._

"I'm not going to lie," Peeta declared in no uncertain terms. He might as well have said, I love you. "We care about each other, don't we?" He continued. "I know that you have some kind of feelings for me and we both know I have feelings for you, so all we have to do is just act normally. Be ourselves." He walked up to me and held my hands in his, brushing his thumbs in a circular motion across the back of mine. "Think about how we've been lately. How close we've gotten since coming back to Twelve. There haven't been any cameras around. No one to put on a show for. It's just been us. If Gale walked in…if _anyone_ walked in on any of those days and saw us together, do you think they'd question our feelings for one another?"

He had a good point. "No." I had no clue how Peeta was able to do this. In the span of minutes, he turned my world right side up again. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "No one would question it at all." Including myself.

"Then it's agreed. We just live our lives the way we've been living them. The only difference is now we know, _technically_ , we're still engaged. Neither one of us will be lying." Peeta had a way of making everything sound plausible.

"I like that idea. I can do that. I can be honest." The smile I gave him was one of reassurance so he'd know I was on board with this particular plan.

"Me too and since we're being honest and all…right now I'm going to do something I've been dying to do for days." He leaned in and placed his lips against mine. The kiss was soft to begin with. He didn't even close his eyes. He just held my curious gaze with his and placed his lips against mine. His hands cradled my cheeks when he pulled away and said in a voice so soft it caused a chill to rush up my spine, "I've missed that."

"So have I." To my surprise, I leaned in and continued kissing him. Our arms wrapped around each other as three days of stress melted away between our lips.

I had experienced many types of kisses with Peeta, but nothing quite like what was happening to me in that moment. A tingling sensation started in my belly and spread slowly out through my limbs until my entire body felt like it was surrounded in a blanket of Peeta's warmth. I had been stirred by Peeta's kisses. I had even felt what I guessed to be desire, but this time when he kissed me it was like I hadn't a care in the world. I never knew a person could...relax into a kiss, but I did. I let myself go in that moment and forgot all about the hand I had been dealt in the game of life. His lips were soft and knowing and when the tip of his tongue swiped gently across the seam of mine, I opened my mouth and released a sigh between our lips. For one moment I forgot to be scared of all Peeta made me feel. I forgot that Gale had returned to our district. More importantly, I forgot that I was alone now. When his arms pulled me closer I no longer felt like I had to face my problems by myself. Peeta was there. He was always there, and I was grateful. Our kiss had barely started before the pounding on the door had me jumping backwards.

"Great," Peeta mumbled. "Do you think he's got cameras in here or something?" He said in a joking manner and I wondered if the Capitol's surveillance had been disconnected. It didn't matter. Peeta and I had nothing to hide.

I stood with my back to the door trying to compose myself after mine and Peeta's kiss. At first I thought, _Who cares? Let Gale see my puffy lips. Then he'll know what we've been doing._ But Peeta said we needed to be ourselves and I would never do that. So I took a breath. Brushed my fingers against my swollen lips and turned to face my guest. _Let's get this over with._

Peeta's voice carried as he spoke, "Gale, I told you Katniss isn't feeling well."

"That's okay, Peeta. Let him in,” I said.

Peeta mouthed "Are you sure?" to me and I nodded yes in response.

"Hello, Gale. It's past my curfew…" just saying the word curfew made me feel trapped. "So I'm sure you'll understand if I ask you to leave soon." My demeanor was like ice towards this boy...this man I had once trusted with my life. Peeta shut the door and took my hand. A surge of energy flowed through our connection providing me the strength I needed to get through my visit with Gale.

"So…you're engaged. Congratulations." I really hated cocky Gale. I was tempted to punch him in the face.

"We always were," Peeta informed him without batting an eye.

"Right." Gale said with a questioning brow, and I knew he could see right through what I could only think of as a facade. "I just wanted to find out when the happy day was."

"We haven't set a date yet.” I knew I should have said something in response, but I let Peeta take the wheel. “Katniss just turned eighteen and Annie just had her baby so…things are kind of uncertain as far as dates go," and he was doing very well so I saw no reason to add my two cents.

"Okay,” Gale said. “Well, I hope I'm invited to the nuptials. I'm sure Plutarch would be happy to televise it. The whole country would be pleased to see the…what was it again? Oh yeah… _the star crossed lovers_ get married." His words dripped with sarcasm.

"Gale, is there any particular reason you came here tonight? Or was it just to give me and my wife…I mean, fiancée a hard time?" Peeta's use of the word wife had Gale's eye twitching and his hand reaching for the doorknob. I had no clue if Peeta's slip up was intentional or not, but it got the point across.

"Like I said. Just wanted to find out about the date. My mom was curious." Gale the liar was worse than cocky Gale.

"To be honest with you, Gale." I finally found my voice. "When we get married," I looked at Peeta. "I don't think we'll have any guests. We already had too many prying eyes in the beginning of our relationship. It almost didn't survive." Those words rang too true to my ears. If all of those cameras hadn't been around, I bet Peeta and I would've been friends. Possibly more. I'm not sure why I thought this other than the fact that Peeta was one of the few people in my life that accepted me for all my many faults and even I knew people like that were a rarity. I also knew that I didn't want anyone televising my wedding if, and it was a bit if, I ever got married. I'm sure Peeta didn't want anyone doing that to him either.

Peeta smiled gently at me and kissed my hand, looking at me with adoration in his eyes, and for once it didn't frighten me. Instead it caused me to feel a sense of relief.

"See you tomorrow, Katniss." With that, Gale left.

I turned to Peeta and held him tightly. No. I didn't need to pretend this time around. Okay, we weren't engaged, well technically I guess we were, but it's not like we were actually getting married. So…really…we haven't set a date, because there was no date to set. "We didn't tell one lie." I was proud of this fact.

"We didn't, did we? Well, I called you my wife, but that was an accident." We both smiled which I considered quite an accomplishment after the past few days. "Told you it would be easy." He kissed the tip of my nose and took his bag upstairs to our bedroom. “I'll go down and lock things up after I unpack, okay?” I followed him up the stairs and into the room.

“That's fine. Or I could do it if you want,” I suggested, wanting to feel like I was capable of doing something productive.

“I'll do it,” he held my gaze from across the room and a nervous jitter started in my stomach. “Why don't you go take a hot bath?” He walked slowly towards me and rested his hand at the curve of my hip. “You've had a rough few days and you look like you could use a little relaxation time.” His lips found mine in a soft peck before he encouraged, “Go on. I'll be back up in a few minutes.”

I'm not sure how long I was in the tub, but my fingers and toes were pruned by the time I got out. As I was buttoning up my shirt I saw my reflection in the mirror. There were dark bags under my eyes, my cheeks looked hollow, and I had a sickeningly white pallor about my skin. It had only been three days since Haymitch told me of Gale's return to Twelve, but by the looks of me, you'd have sworn I had been notified a month earlier.

Things had changed so much, so very much, since Gale and I were younger. Since my first Games. It was difficult to admit, but I missed my life, the one I had before entering the arena. The life I always thought to be a terrible existence, was now something I longed for. Back then there was only food to worry about. Food and being caught poaching off the Capitol's land, but it didn't take much to buy off a Peacekeeper. I was actually wishing for the life I had when President Snow was still running our nation. Not because I missed his dictatorship, but because it was so much simpler back then. It was sad to think that risking your life on a daily basis just so your family wouldn't starve was preferable to the life I was currently living, but it was. I could see the tears rolling down my cheeks as I looked at my reflection in the mirror and felt my heart breaking in two. The ache in my belly was so painful I thought I was going to be sick. I missed my sister so much I physically hurt. I longed for her bright eyes to smile up at me and the sound of her delicate voice asking me about my day. On top of that, I yearned for the friendship that had been blown to bits along with my sister. I missed what I had once had with Gale. I ached for the boy I confided in and shared my innermost secrets with. A feeling of loneliness consumed my anguished thoughts as my tears continued to fall silently down my cheeks.

“Katniss?” Peeta's soft knock interrupted me.

I quickly wiped at my eyes before he entered, but I couldn't seem to move from my spot.

“I was starting to get worried.” He stepped into the room with his hand over his eyes. “Are you okay? You've been in here for a while.”

It shouldn't have bothered me to see him standing there like an innocent child not wanting to peek, but it did. Everything about him bothered me in that moment. “I'm dressed Peeta.”

“I wasn't sure.” Peeta's arms encompassed my waist and he met my saddened eyes in the mirror. An hour or two earlier I would have found comfort in his embrace and now the idea of him holding me irked me to no end. I knew it wasn't his fault Prim was dead, or that I had lost Gale, but he instantly turned into the target for my emotional state. “I'm tired.” I pushed his arms away a little too harshly.

“I'm sure you are.” He stood to the side and took my tense fingers in his. “You've hardly had any rest these past few days.”

“I'm going to sleep,” I started to turn away from him, yanking my hand from his grasp.

“Hey,” he gave me an inquisitive look. “Are you mad at me or something?”

“No,” I snapped. “I'm just tired.” I pushed past him and went straight to bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, and presenting him with nothing but the view of the back of my head. I could feel the cool breeze blowing in through the open window and said, “Can you close that. I'm cold.” I wasn't cold, but I knew he preferred sleeping with it open and even that bothered me.

The mattress shifted beneath his weight as he got into bed and I hoped that he would go to sleep without pulling me into our nightly position of my head on his chest and his arms wrapped around me. As I lay there with memories of my sister haunting my thoughts, and a life of starvation that was preferable to the one I was currently living, I heard Peeta's voice.

“I was mad at you on Reaping Day,” the way he said it almost sounded confessional. “Actually, I had been mad at you for a few weeks leading up to that day.”

I'm not sure why he was angry with me, nor did I care. We didn't even know each other back then so I sniffed out my disinterest as well as my displeasure and squeezed my eyes closed in the hopes that he would keep his explanation to himself.

“My brother and I made a bet before the wrestling tournament,” Peeta continued talking as I released a huff of breath, but that didn't seem to hinder him or the story he was about to bestow upon me. “Miche...he had come in first place every year since he joined the team, and I was usually right behind him. You know...I'd come in second or third place.” This wasn't news to me. Everyone in school knew his brother was the one to beat. “The terms of the bet were simple. If he did better than I did at the end of the year match then I'd have to do his chores at the bakery for the summer, and if I did better than him, he had to cover my shifts on Saturdays and do the prep on Sundays for the rest of the week.” He paused, and I could feel him rolling towards me, but he didn't touch me, thank God. “The bakery was closed on Sundays, but there was always plenty of work to be done, and I was always the one to do it. My dad would help me most Sundays, but my mom would usually nag at him and say things like, 'You get one day off a week. Can't you spend it away from the bakery?' Not that it mattered. I mean, we lived upstairs. How far away from the bakery could he get?” Peeta asked his rhetorical question, and I rolled my eyes when he continued on. “Saturday, in the bakery it was usually my mom, dad, one of my brothers and me. I rarely got any time off because of the cakes. It's not like I had to decorate a lot of them, but even one cake could take me up to a week depending on how big or complex the design.” This was news to me. I couldn't imagine spending a week on decorating a cake. It seemed like a huge waste of time. “My dad though...he made sure I had at least one Saturday a month off during the summer.” Peeta was quiet for a few seconds, and I could hear him clearing his throat and sniffling. I rolled onto my back, wondering if he had been crying, and glanced over at him to see him wiping his eyes against the pillow. “Anyway... Miche,” Peeta had a far off look in his eyes as he told his story and I was suddenly entranced at the sight of him. I recognized his expression all too well. It was the one I had just seen looking back at me in the bathroom mirror. “Miche...he uh thought he had a lock on the win, and truthfully, I did too. I had never beaten him.” A small smile played wistfully at the corner of Peeta's lips and his eyes finally met mine. “I walked into the gymnasium, trying my best to hide my fear of pulling double duty at the bakery all summer long, and that's when I saw you.” I rolled onto my side to face him, tucking my hands beneath my cheek. “You were sitting all the way in the back row, behind Maxwell Connor. God that guy was tall,” Peeta let out a little chuckle, and I remembered thinking that very same thing when I went into the pathetic excuse of a gymnasium we had in our school. “I wondered why you were there,” he gave his shoulder a shrug. “I didn't know if you were there to watch the match or just hiding out, but I figured if I did well enough...maybe you'd notice me,” his voice took on that hypnotic tone that pulled me in. “So when I stepped up for my first match I was determined to impress you.”

Thoughts of that day came rushing back to me. Handmade signs for the wrestling tournament had been posted all over the school. Normally those types of events never interested me, but for some reason I found myself sitting amongst a group of kids, watching each match intently. Prim had wanted to go straight home after school, but I told her we'd stop by the bakery so she could look in the window if she would stop complaining.

“My first match was against Sutton Pratt. I pinned him in less than thirty seconds,” Peeta grinned proudly. “As soon as it was over, I went back to the bench...got some water, and searched you out, but Maxwell was blocking my view of you, so I got up and began to pace back and forth until I found a spot that gave me a glimpse of you. Part of you anyway.” He brushed his hand over my shoulder before tucking it beneath his chin which gave me the feeling that that was the part of me he had been able to see that day. “It went on like that with the rest of my matches. My opponent would meet me on the mat and I would take him down in less than a minute. I was unstoppable that day, and Miche was starting to get worried. He said, 'What's got _you_ so motivated today? Think mom is actually going to let you have a Saturday off regardless of whether or not I cover your shift?' But, I didn't let him get in my head. There wasn't any room,” Peeta's eyes lingered on my lips and his voice got lower. “You were already taking up so much space.” The hard edge that had taken over my being had melted away in the warmth radiating from Peeta's eyes. “It wasn't until Miche and I were on the mat, and I glanced towards where you were sitting, that I gave it away.” Peeta's voice was thick and just above a whisper. “You were standing up...peering over Maxwell's head with this eager look on your face, and Miche finally figured out what it was that had been motivating me that day.” Peeta's eyes flashed away from mine. “We used to do this thing to try and throw our opponent off of his game...you know...like saying stuff to them to make them lose their concentration. Usually it involved profanities and comparing your opponent to...” I could almost _feel_ him blushing in the dark, “female genitalia.” It took me a minute to catch his meaning and when I did my eyes just about popped out of my head at the idea of Peeta directing that word at someone. “The referee blew the whistle and Miche and I circled each other,” he painted me a picture with his words and I remembered seeing Peeta bent over with his arms to his sides in that traditional wrestler's pose, almost stalking his brother like prey. “Then Miche says, 'Why is Katniss Everdeen staring at you?'” Peeta gave his head a little shake. “One second. That's how long I looked away from him and towards you, but that was all he needed to make his move. He had me pinned in no time flat, and I came in second. _And_ I lost the bet.” Peeta inched closer to me. “After that, Miche kept giving me grief about losing because I couldn't keep my eyes off of you, and I was...” Peeta sighed. “I was pissed at you, Katniss. Furious if I'm being honest.” His hand took mine under the blankets and his thumb began its familiar pattern of drawing a circle against the back of it. “I blamed you for my loss...for my summer being ruined. After that, every time I saw you, or thought of you, I'd get mad at you.”

“That's absurd. I had nothing to do with you losing to your brother.” I didn't understand why he had been angry with me because he didn't have a handle on his own impulses. “Your loss wasn't my fault, Peeta.” I was almost insulted that he blamed me for his failure. “It's not like I controlled the outcome of...” I sucked in a breath as the point of Peeta's story finally hit home. “Oh,” I lifted my hands to his face and cupped his cheeks, resting my forehead against his. “Oh, Peeta. I'm so sorry.”

There was no need to explain why I was sorry. Peeta already knew. “It happens,” he gave his shoulder a shrug and the blanket slid down his upper arm. “You're not the first person in the world to take out your emotions on someone you lo...care about.”

My eyes shot to his, and I could see the fear in them at his tiny slip of the tongue. I had no idea how to handle Peeta's love for me. It's not like it came as a surprise, or maybe it did. He had been essentially programed by the Capitol to hate me, yet here he was...still devoted to me. The thought not only frightened me, but it excited me as well. To be loved like that...to be loved so much that the torture he went through still couldn't take him away from me was humbling. I could see Peeta's Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed over and over again. Sweat starting to form at his brow as he awaited my response. But how did I respond to him when I still wasn't sure how it was I felt about him? My eyes darted to the side, and I caught a glimpse of the window. “Be right back,” I whispered. Admitting the depth of which I cared about Peeta out loud wasn't something I was prepared for, but I could do this one thing to show him how much he...his feelings towards me, meant.

“Where are you going?” He asked as I walked to the window and opened it up. The breeze came rushing into the room, causing the curtains to flow around my arms. I stood with my back to Peeta, still not quite ready to face him, and heard him say, “You don't have to do that if you don't want to. I don't mind if we sleep with it closed.” But I knew he slept better with it open and if this was all I could do for him right then, then I was more than willing to do it. “Katniss?” He said in a dusty whisper. “It's okay.”

“You're always doing things for me,” I said towards the open window. “You're always taking care of me,” I finally faced him. “I'd like to do something for you every now and then too.” The rush of cold air caused me to shiver and I rubbed the tops of my upper arms with my hands out of reflex.

Peeta lifted the blankets. “Come back to bed, Katniss.” This time when I shivered I wasn't sure if it was the wind or the sound of Peeta's voice that caused it. As I climbed into bed, Peeta quickly enfolded me in his arms, only this time when he held me, we were lying face to face. “You've got a chill.” He pressed his lips against my forehead and rubbed at my arms and back like he was trying to warm me up.

“I'm okay,” I gripped him a little tighter when he pressed a kiss against my head again. A moment ago I didn't want him to touch me, and now I found the comfort only he had been able to provide me since the first arena, in his arms. We lay there for several minutes in the still of darkness holding onto each other. Neither one of us saying a word. I thought of the story he had told me about his brother and the bet they had placed when a thought struck me. “Peeta? You said that it was you and one of your brothers on Saturdays at the bakery. Didn't they both work?”

“No. My mother wanted them to spend at least one day a week studying,” he let out a pathetic chuckle. “She said, they needed to know about the business for the day they took it over.”

“Wouldn't they have learned more if they were actually working at the bakery instead of studying those stupid courses we had to take in school?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Peeta pulled far enough away so I could see his face. “My mom favored my brothers for some reason. I'm not sure what it was about me that got under her skin, but there were a different set of rules for me and my brothers. They got two weekends off a month, and...” he squinted in thought. “God, I don't really remember ever getting an entire weekend off.”

“Why didn't your dad say something?” It was his father's bakery too, and the man was one of Peeta's parents.

“My dad tried his best, Katniss.” Peeta looked off to the side in thought. “Imagine living with someone whose idea of love was to belittle and degrade you. Someone that had to make you feel small in order to feel better about themselves.” His eyes met mine. “That's the kind of marriage my father was in. And no matter how much he loved me, or how much he'd want to stand up to her, mentally he wasn't strong enough.”

I began thinking about Peeta's upbringing, and the woman he called mother. Anyone that had ever been a customer of the bakery knew the woman lacked serious social skills. We were alike that way, which made me sick. But being cruel for the sake of pleasure? I didn't think I'd ever be capable of something like that. At least I hoped I wasn't. I remembered the way she had hit Peeta that day he threw me the bread, and wondered if the woman had ever lifted a hand to her husband as well. There was no way on earth I could ever ask Peeta about that. What if he didn't remember exactly how mean his mother was? I didn't want to be responsible for bringing those painful memories to the forefront of his mind.

“I miss him,” Peeta's voice was thick with emotion. I could see the tears building up in his eyes and understood all too well that empty feeling you got when you thought about never seeing someone you loved ever again.

I searched for something to say to Peeta that would bring him some form of comfort but all I could think of was, “He brought me cookies.”

Apparently this wasn't news to Peeta who gave me a little nod. “I was so little when...” he cleared his throat and tried again. “My dad was making a batch of cookies and I must have been about five or six. The only reason I remember it is because that was the only time in my life my father hit me.” I was surprised to hear that Peeta's father lifted a hand to him. “On occasion when my dad made cookies I'd be able to take one without my mom knowing. My dad would turn his back to the tray and give me a wink like he was telling me it was okay to take one.” He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand to wipe away the tears. “My mom was out somewhere, and my dad was baking cookies, so when he turned his back, I thought I could have one. I picked it up and was just about to take a bite when my dad smacked my hand and knocked it back onto the tray. 'Not these,'” Peeta's voice grew louder as though he were reliving the moment and scolding himself. “'You must never... _never_ eat these cookies.'” Peeta's face grew serious. “He took me by the shoulders and gave me a few hard shakes. 'Swear to me, Peeta! Swear to me that you will never eat these cookies.'” The tears he had wiped away were back with a vengeance. “I was in such shock at my dad's reaction that I started to cry, but he just kept saying, 'Swear it, Peeta! Swear it!' Finally I choked out an, 'I swear,' and my dad squeezed me so tight I thought he was going to suffocate me. He took me over to the bakery counter and said, 'You can pick anything you want out of here, okay?' I think he realized how much he frightened me and wanted to make it up to me. I picked out a small tart, and he sat me down at the table and watched me eat every last crumb, but I swear to you, that tart was the worst tasting thing I had ever eaten. Not because it was bad, but because I was afraid that my dad would start hitting me like my mom did, and I think I would have died if that had happened.” It felt as though I had a vice gripping my heart, squeezing every last drop of blood from it. I cradled Peeta's cheeks in my hands and pressed my lips against the tears that were streaming down his face as he continued speaking. “It wasn't until years later that I understood the significance of those cookies. You see, he made them every year for the District Twelve tributes, but that was the _only_ time he made those cookies.” I had finally understood why Peeta's father had brought them to me. Not because he was trying to save his son's life, but because he was being kind. “When we were reaped he cried when he handed them to me. That's when my mother said the thing about our district finally having a winner that year.” My eyes were now filled with tears too and though his mother's comment wasn't news to me, hearing the context in which it was spoken, was like a slap in the face. In that one brief moment of time I understood what Peeta and his father had experienced. What it was like to be stung by the sharp blows Peeta's mother used as her verbal weapon. “Miche, he had no idea what to do...to say,” Peeta continued. “I could see how torn up he was. It was the only time I ever saw him cry. I mean...he tried to hide it by making a joke when he gave me one last hug. 'Hey, you'll finally get to taste the cookies.' Guess my brothers always wondered about them too, but when he said that to me...” Peeta choked out a soft sob. “I just couldn't do it, Katniss. I couldn't eat them so I threw them in the trash right there at the Justice Building.”

“You kept your promise to your father,” my voice was trembling almost as much as the rest of me, and all Peeta could do was nod.

“I threw them away too,” I admitted. “At the time I was trying to distance myself from you. The idea of killing you...” I sucked in a sharp breath and our arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace at the mere thought. I buried my face in his neck while he peppered kisses against the side of my head until finally resting his lips against my ear.

Peeta whispered, “He didn't make them for the Quell. I wouldn't let him.” And together we cried. I could hear him softly sobbing in my ear as I allowed my tears to spill, drenching the neck of his collar.

I had learned a lot about Peeta that night. About his family life, that he wasn't always the dutiful admirer when it came to me, that his life was far from easy, that he missed his family just as much as I missed my sister, but most of all, I learned that Peeta was so much stronger than I ever gave him credit for. Had it been me living the life he had, I would have grown up to be just as bitter as his mother, but not Peeta.

“Maybe,” Peeta said quietly, “that's why we survived? Maybe my dad's cookies were bad luck.” I could tell he was joking, and I knew I shouldn't have found it amusing, but when Peeta pulled back and looked at me with a slight cringe and said, “God, that was a horrible thing to say.” I couldn't help but laugh. It's not like it was all that funny, but it provided the relief we needed, and after several minutes of nothing but the sound of sobs filling the room, I could feel “it” lift. The dark dread that consumed a person's soul...that loomed over you like a storm cloud... That feeling you get when you lose someone you love was momentarily washed away by the sound of our laughter. “Wow,” Peeta's laugh abruptly ended and was replaced with a smile so loving I could almost feel it caressing my skin. “Oh,” he sighed as his fingers brushed the side of my face.

“What?” I suddenly felt self conscious.

“You're laughing,” he said in wonder.

I could feel myself blushing. “I do laugh, Peeta.”

“I...I know, but...” he sighed. “You have to understand, Katniss. The sound of your laugh is almost as elusive as your singing,” he rested his forehead against mine and whispered an inch away from my lips, “but just as beautiful.” He gave me a soft kiss that lasted no longer than the length of a breath and stole mine in the process. “You should do it more often.”

Peeta's ability to bring joy back into my life left me amazed. “How do you always know what to say?” The tone of our conversation had been quiet since Peeta started talking about his father, but now it felt...intimate. “You have this way of making people feel better even if there's nothing wrong with them.” I rested my head deeper into my pillow. “I can't do that.”

“You do that all the time just not with words,” Peeta took up a position identical to my own and our hands met instinctively between us. “Like just now...” he got a slightly smug look on his face. “When you laughed. I'll admit it made my head swell a little.”

I let out a tiny snort. “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because, I did that,” Peeta said proudly. “ _I_ made you smile...laugh.”

His statement alone brought on another smile from me. “Yes, you did.”

“And now it's starting to swell even more,” he chuckled and I was so sucked into the happiness radiating from him that I actually giggled. “God, Katniss. You have to stop.” His smiled beamed. “I'm not going to be able to get my head through the door if you keep this up.”

“Oh my God,” I rolled onto my back and let out a loud burst of laughter. “You are awfully full of yourself.”

“Yes I am.” He lifted onto his elbow and looked down at me. “I mean, who wouldn't be? Getting the constantly scowling Katniss Everdeen to laugh? That's a miraculous feat.”

“Shut up,” I playfully pushed at his shoulders. “You're not the only person in the world that has gotten me to laugh, you know?”

“Haymitch doesn't count. I mean...it shouldn't count if you're laughing _at_ someone.” Once again I let out a laugh which was slowly sounding less foreign to me. “So tell me who else has gotten you to laugh so easily?”

“Gale,” I said without thinking.

For a second I was afraid I had ruined what was turning out to be a pleasurable exchange until Peeta's pressed his hands against his heart and faked being shot, saying, “Ouch.” He plopped down onto his side and faced me. “You sure know how to deflate a guy's ego.”

“Stop it,” I rolled to face him too. “I was just saying...” I wasn't quite sure what I was saying. My response to his question about who made me laugh had come so naturally I didn't quite know what to say next.

“Feel guilty for saying Gale's name?” He asked with a somewhat sly grin.

“Maybe a little.”

“You should,” he said with a straight face then immediately followed it up with a huge smile. “You should feel terribly guilty for saying that to your fiance.”

“My fiance,” I rolled my eyes at his use of the term.

“You're just trying to be mean to me now, aren't you?” He gave my ribs a little poke and I could tell by his tone that he was enjoying our banter, but I could no longer continue joking around about my former friend. It was too painful.

“That was my point before. You know exactly what to say to people, and I'm...I'm useless when it comes to that sort of thing.”

“Katniss,” all the teasing elements of his voice were instantly gone. “Do you know how many times you've made me feel better without saying a word?” I shook my head in answer. “Countless. Every time you smile at me...you look at me,” he lifted my fingertips to his lips and pressed a kiss against them then rested my hand against the hinge at his jaw. “Every time you touch me, it makes me feel like maybe...just maybe life isn't so bad. Maybe things will be okay after all.”

I stroked the side of Peeta's jaw down to the curve of his neck then repeated the action and watched as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. As I studied his facial features I began to get what he was saying. For some reason I didn't need words when it came to Peeta. He seemed to get what he needed to... _hear_ in the little things that I _did_. It wasn't much, but I continued to brush my fingers lazily against Peeta's skin and watched as the muscles in his face relaxed and his lips parted. _I don't know how you did it, Peeta,_ I thought to myself, _but somehow you got the best of your father...his kindness, and not a stitch of your mother's cruelty._ Within minutes Peeta had fallen asleep beneath my touch. I pressed a kiss against his forehead and he rolled into me in his sleep. Our normal position had been reversed. It was now Peeta sleeping with his head against my chest, and my arms clinging to him, my hands stroking the back of his hair, or the base of his spine, bringing him the comfort...the peace he had provided me so many times before. And for the first time in our relationship I felt a surge of love flow through me that was not initiated by something Peeta had said, or done _for_ me, but from what I was able to do _for him_.

Surprisingly we both slept nightmare free. In the morning I was woken up with one of Peeta's kisses and the sound of birds singing outside of the window. "Good morning,” I said.

"Good morning."

Peeta began to stand up, but I pulled him back down into bed with me. "Don't go yet."

"I need to get up, Katniss. I have some baking to do."

I curled up against him and ran my hand across his chest. "Baking?"

"Yes." I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Why would you want to bake on a morning like this? We could just lie here and…" I stretched and yawned. "Go back to sleep."

"Because I want to bake something for our new neighbors."

_Our new neighbors? Oh…right._ I cringed at the thought. "Wait a minute. You're going to bake for him?" I sat straight up in bed.

"No. For his family." Peeta just lay there, with his hands crossed underneath his head. "I really like his family, Katniss. But if you don't want me to…"

"Oh…well…" I had to think about it for a minute. I really didn't have any issues with Gale's siblings or Hazelle for that matter. I actually liked them. I liked Gale too, not long ago, but right now the sight of him made me want to wretch. "What are you going to bake?" _Maybe I can get something out of this._

"I was thinking about some cookies and some herb bread. Maybe some cheese buns."

"Cheese buns?" I arched a brow in his direction and he nodded, yes. "Well get up!” I gave his arm a slight push. “What are you lying around for?"

We were laughing when I answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Congratulations." It was Haymitch. I wasn't quite sure why he was congratulating me.

_They couldn't have decided in my favor at the Capitol yet._ "On what?" I asked cautiously.

"Did you two set a date while I was gone? Just in case the President asks where her invitation is."

_Oh… on our marriage…engagement._ "No,” I played along. “No dates set in the past twenty-four hours, but we're not wanting a big ceremony anyway. Just you, my mom and me and Peeta. No television crews. No cameras. Just the family." I automatically included Haymitch as my family now. Peeta and I both did.

"Well I think that's a great idea, sweetheart. You two have had enough TV crews to last a lifetime,” Haymitch said.

"That's exactly what we said."

"All right. The train is boarding in twenty minutes so I better go.” Like I had expected, Haymitch knew exactly what was going on in regards to the news about mine and Peeta's engagement. “Your mom sends her regards.”

"Tell her I'll call her soon,” I said.

"Will do, sweetheart."

I hung the phone up and looked down at Peeta who was still lying in bed and said, "Aren't you supposed to be baking?"

"That depends,” Peeta said.

"On what?"

"My motivation,” Peeta got this all too innocent look on his face. “You see I have motivation for bringing the new neighbors something…since they're _new_ and all, but I really have no use for the cheese buns." He started pulling me down on top of him. "Who was on the phone?"

"Haymitch. He wanted to make sure we hadn't set a date in the past day…you know…just in case anyone inquires about an invitation."

"Ah…" he pulled me in for a kiss, but I pushed away.

"You want motivation?" I asked.

"That's what I was aiming for." _No. You were aiming for my lips._

A thought crossed my mind. "Okay. For every cheese bun you make me you get one kiss."

Peeta flipped me onto my back, causing me to let out a little burst of laughter, and said, "Out of my way. I've got some baking to do."

I followed him down the stairs, listening to the sound of his laughter, and smiled. After the past few days, I had never expected to feel this way...this good, but Peeta lifted the weight off of my shoulders, and made me believe that we could get through this. We had survived not one, but two arenas, and a war, so the reappearance of Gale Hawthorne should be nothing in comparison.

While Peeta gathered all of his ingredients together, I sat at the kitchen table staring at him. Watching him bake wasn't as intense as watching him sketch or paint, but it was much more entertaining. There was usually some obscenities involved, a rare thing for Peeta, but I enjoyed seeing his verbal imperfections on occasion. The muscles in his arms, shoulders and back tended to flex when he kneaded the dough and today he was baking more than he normally did, so I got to watch him do this several times over. Very entertaining indeed. When he had one type of bread ready to put in the oven, he started on some muffins. When that batter was ready he gathered the ingredients for the cookies. Fortunately he was keeping the kitchen clean while he did his work, and all I had to do was enjoy the view. When I recognized the ingredients for my cheese buns I wondered how many he would make.

"I'm thinking about making about a hundred cheese buns today,” it was like Peeta had been reading my mind. “What do you think, Katniss?"

I smiled. "I think I'm going to need something for chapped lips." As our laughter bubbled through my kitchen I found myself allowing the momentary sense of tranquility and delight the morning had brought to flow through me.

It was barely 8:00am and there was a knock on my door. Without thinking I rolled my eyes at Peeta. We both knew it would be Gale. It didn't bother me though. I refused to let anything sour my mood. As I went to answer it, Peeta called out my name, but it was too late. I opened the door wearing nothing but Peeta's shirt, some undergarments and a smile.

"Uh…Good morning, Katniss." Gale gave me a once over then looked passed me and said his greeting to Peeta. "Morning."

Peeta rushed up behind me and grabbed me by my shoulders turning me away from viewing eyes. "Katniss, why don't you go change. I'll get Gale and his family some tea."

I looked down and saw my bare legs sticking out from beneath Peeta's shirt, felt Peeta's hand on my bare shoulder where the shirt hung off of, exposing my flesh, and then I looked out my front door and saw Gale's entire family standing there. Needless to say, I headed straight for the bedroom to hide my humiliation.

I heard some noise downstairs. Voices. Chairs being scraped across the floor and I tried to figure out how I was going to face all of them again. Maybe Posy didn't know any better, but Rory and Vick were probably making all kinds of guesses as to what I was doing in a man's shirt. Half naked. Answering my door. _Ugh_! I sat on the edge of my bed and put my face in my hands thinking, _I can't believe I just did that. Stupid. Stupid, Katniss. What were you thinking?_

"Hey," Peeta walked into the room and said, "The way I figure…they probably saw a lot more of you during the Games then they did downstairs. I mean… _I_ was practically naked with the exception of a bag you gave me to cover myself in the first arena."

This was true. In the second arena I had to completely rid myself of my bodysuit and wear nothing but my undergarments.

"Think about it. Most people don't really shy away from nudity that much," Peeta said and Johanna immediately came to mind.

I had just about gotten over my aversion to nudity, but this...this was completely different. It had nothing to do with how much clothing I was wearing, but the level of intimacy between me and Peeta my nighttime wardrobe insinuated. "Well, I'm not most people."

"I know," he sat on the edge of the bed next to me. "That's why I'm crazy about you." He kissed my cheek then grabbed his clothes and got dressed.

The funny thing was...it didn't bother me when Peeta saw me dressed like that...for the most part. And he's gotten undressed in front of me before. Well, we hadn't been completely naked or anything, but pretty close. It's just a necessity when you're in the Games and recently I had become much more comfortable around him. I guess since we started sleeping at each other's houses, we never really thought about it. Well, I did the first night I wore his shirt to sleep, but after that…okay there was a night after that too, but since then… _Who am I kidding? I hate it when people see me in a vulnerable state._ And not being fully clothed fell under that classification.

"I'll tell them you'll be down soon,” he said. “The kids are dying to see you and so is Hazelle." Peeta kissed the top of my head and left me alone with my thoughts.

_Okay, Katniss. Peeta's right. You had to strip when you bathed in the river during the first Games._ I don't know if anyone watched me bathe, but the thought that I had worn less clothing for all of Panem was a little comforting to me. After a minute or two I put my clothes on, braided my hair and went down to greet everyone.

"Sorry I took so long." I walked up to Hazelle and was rewarded with a big hug. I missed her. I missed all of them. Rory, Vick and Posy, who I always thought of as the baby. “She's gotten so big,” I directed my comment towards Hazelle. I watched as the littlest member of the Hawthorne clan made her way towards the basket Buttercup slept in.

"I hope we're not intruding," Hazelle said. "But we really wanted to see you and since Gale was on his way over we thought we'd come along."

"No. It's not an imposition at all." If anything it was a relief. Peeta had put me in a good frame of mind and I didn't want Gale coming along and ruining it. Seeing his brothers and sister was a welcomed treat. "Can I get you some tea? Juice?" I offered.

"I'd like some coffee." I glared at Gale and thought, _I didn't ask you_.

"We're not coffee drinkers, Gale. However, I can put on a pot of tea to go with these muffins I'm making," Peeta offered.

"Tea sounds wonderful," said Hazelle.

Peeta was busy with his baking so I went into the kitchen and put on the tea. Hazelle started talking about the trip to the new house and how she enjoyed the train. Rory and Vick couldn't stop talking about how great the house was compared to their old one and Posy just wanted to know what kinds of things Peeta was baking. My house was noisy. Full of children's voices and lots of laughter. I stood in the middle of my kitchen watching Posy play with Buttercup. In the corner of my eye I could see Gale sitting at my kitchen table watching her. Laughing. And in that moment I missed Prim so much. All I could think of was, _the man that created the bomb that killed my sister, is laughing in my kitchen. I'm getting ready to serve him tea and muffins. No. No. This isn't right. This isn't the way it's supposed to be._ I started to shudder. The air was getting so thick, I could barely breathe. I heard Hazelle say my name, but my eyes were stuck on Posy and Buttercup.

Peeta turned me away from the scene and started rubbing his hands up and down my arms. "Hey. You okay?" He spoke in a hushed tone.

I gave my head a little shake and darted my sights from Posy to Gale and back to Posy again. Everything around me was beginning to blur due as the tears built up.

Peeta's hands guided my face to his. "Look at me,” he said gently. "You know what I saw in town the other day?" He didn't wait for my answer. "I saw the butcher buy a bag of candy. And every time someone went into her shop with a child, she gave them a piece. Wasn't that nice of her? And when I was on my way home I ran into some people who were new to the district. They didn't know where they were going and asked me and Thom for help, but Thom knew I wanted to get home to you so he suggested that he show them around himself. He did that for me. Just so I could come home to you." I looked into Peeta's eyes and blocked the rest of the world out, concentrating on nothing but the sound of his reassuring voice. The tension in my shoulders was slowly leaving my body. One of Peeta's hands was caressing my cheek and the other was gently stroking my arm...my back...my waist. It was very soothing. "And last week I trashed this kitchen. It was a complete disaster. But the sweetest girl cleaned my entire mess just so I could paint."

"Sweet?" I asked in a barely audible tone. Not a word I normally use to describe myself.

"Yes," he smiled and I was lost in his eyes. In that moment, the only two people that mattered were him and I. The sound of Gale's laughter was gone, as was the image of Posy playing with Prim's cat. "She's the _sweetest_ girl I know,” Peeta's declaration brought a tug to my lips and I hinted at a smile. "Don't you think that was kind? People can be so good-hearted, Katniss. They do little things everyday that seem unimportant, but when you see the smile on a child's face because he got a piece of candy from the butcher. Or some new neighbors are welcomed into town…" He leaned his forehead against mine. "Or someone cleans up your mess so you can paint… It can change everything. People do compassionate…generous things everyday." The tears that had been building up in my eyes finally spilled over my lashes and trailed down my cheeks leaving the taste of salt on my lips. Peeta wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

"Thank you," my lips moved, but no words were said.

"Want to help me make some cookies?" He offered solace in the midst of turmoil.

"No cheese buns?" I whispered to him.

"Nope. I have this deal with a girl I know. For every cheese bun I make her, I get a kiss."

"Then wouldn't I get a kiss for every one I made?" My hands rested on his waist.

His eyebrows lifted and he said, "Good point." He kissed me. A soft peck on the lips and whispered, "Take that out of my cheese bun tally." He guided me to a corner counter and put me to work.

"Is she okay?" I heard Rory ask Peeta in a very low voice, when he brought the tea pot to the table.

"She's fine." He answered. "She just needed a minute, but she'll be herself in no time."

I listened as Gale excused himself and said he was going home. Relief flooded through me. I could handle the rest of his family, but for some reason, I couldn't face him after what just happened. I wasn't embarrassed or anything. I just felt like he was waiting for me to fail. Like he wouldn't be satisfied until I broke down. Until Peeta and I were exposed as frauds. But we weren't frauds. We didn't need to fake anything anymore. Of this I was certain.

Peeta served muffins, baked cookies and bread to send home with Gale's family, and we both made the cheese buns. Two dozen of them.

 

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**Thanks for reading! Follow me on Tumblr I'm jamiesommers23.**


	9. The Face of Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter things heat up between Katniss and Peeta in more than one way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to S (breadberriesandtoastbabies on tumblr) for doing the beta so damn quickly. You are an Everlark Goddess!!   
> Thanks to all of you for reading and for leaving such wonderful comments. They make my day!

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Rated: M for sexual situations and language**

 

 

**The Road to Recovery**

  
  


It was just after 11am by the time Gale's family left. Peeta and I worked side by side in my house, cleaning up the remains of the morning. Dirty dishes, puzzle pieces and misplaced chairs gave us the opportunity to do something...normal. I stood in the center of my living room with my hands on one of the chairs that needed to be returned to the kitchen table, and watched as Peeta bent over, holding onto the dishtowel he had slung over his shoulder, and put the puzzle box away. He was saying something as he did his work, but I was completely oblivious to it. All I could think about was how natural it felt doing little things like this with Peeta. How utterly unexceptional life was in that moment, and how miraculous being ordinary felt.

“Katniss? Hey,” Peeta snapped me out of my stupor. “You okay?”

I could see the worry in his eyes, and quickly put him at ease. “Yeah.” My hands rubbed against the back of the chair I was standing by. “I was just thinking about doing things like this...cleaning up and stuff, and how normal it feels.”

I didn't have to explain it too much to Peeta. He understood all too well how extraordinary our lives had been up to this point. “It's nice, isn't it?” He walked over to me and reached for my hand, pulling me closer.

“It's very nice,” I agreed.

“If you're looking for more run-of-the-mill chores to do, my garden needs to be watered,” he gave me a shy smile with a hint of mischief. “I haven't been able to tend to it these past few days and I don't want the vegetables to die.”

“It doesn't take two people to water a garden, Peeta.” It was obvious he was looking for a reason for me to leave my house and not spend my days hiding out in the shelter of my home.

“It was just a suggestion.” He let his hand travel up the side of my arm before curling it around my neck.

“Think of something else.” His fingertips stroked at the curve of my neck. “I don't...” The tingling sensations he was causing at the crook of my neck left me speechless. “Uh...”

“Don't what?” He asked as he inched closer.

“Don't...” my eyelids drooped as I sunk into his touch and lost track of my thoughts. His lips were a hair away from mine and I sighed as the heat from his breath radiated against my skin.

“Cheese bun,” Peeta whispered as he closed the distance between us and gave me a long, lingering peck on the lips. “That's two. Twenty-two to go.”

“Ten,” I corrected him with my eyes still closed. “Half of those cheese buns are mine.” My hands glided beneath his arms and up his back.

“Maybe you should use one,” he gave me a teasing smile. Kissing him was nothing new, but I rarely initiated them and felt a bit awkward at the thought of being the instigator. “Or I can use up all of mine,” he chuckled at my nervousness.

I nodded at him and whispered, “I think you should.”

He held my anxious stare with one of his own and slid his hands across the dip of my waist causing a sharp twinge to shoot through my stomach. The kiss started off as nothing more than his mouth resting against mine. He didn't even pucker. Just grazed his lips against mine and brushed them back and forth. I could see the question in his eyes as he flicked the tip of his tongue against my bottom lip, asking me if it was okay. My lips parted of their own volition and his tongue swept across mine in a slow, circular motion. The whimper that escaped from me reverberated between our mouths as did the throaty grunt Peeta released. Within seconds the sweet kiss had turned into one with no boundaries. My hands plunged into his hair pulling him closer while his fingertips dug into the fleshy part of my hips. Our heads began twisting and turning as our breathing turned into a combination of short pants and deep bursts of air. I had once equated one of Peeta's kisses to a form of hunger, but this kiss was the exact opposite. We were two people feasting upon the other with, not only our mouths, but our hands...our bodies. I could feel the tips of my breasts tightening into hard little points as Peeta's hands skimmed up the sides of my body. I pushed my chest against his hoping to relieve some of the ache and Peeta let out a throaty growl. My own hands took measure of his torso...his arms...the rigid muscles in his back until finally gripping the sides of his face, holding him in place while I continued to take pleasure in the softness of his lips and the flavor of tea and muffins on his tongue. Peeta's arms encompassed me, holding me tightly and together we got lost in the fervor of the kiss. I wasn't sure where it would lead, but I did know one thing, it was moving quickly...too quickly. It should have scared me, but God, I hadn't felt this alive in ages. I wanted to feel every part of him. I wanted his hands to move over the ache that had developed in my breasts. I wanted to feel the heat of his flesh against my own so I ripped the shirt he was wearing out from the back of his pants and shoved my hands beneath it, running my palms over the lower portion of his spine. Within seconds Peeta tore his lips away from mine leaving me in a state of shock and confusion.

“I...I have to go,” he said.

But I was determined to keep him with me. I kissed him on the side of his neck and whispered into his ear, “Stay here.”

“No, Katniss.” His head dropped back and he let out a moan while I trailed kisses up the side of his throat. “Katniss, no!” He pushed me away and turned from me, heading straight for the door. “I need to water my garden.”

He left me standing there, struggling for air, and feeling unwanted. _What just happened?_ I asked myself, but there was no need for the question. I already knew what had happened. I had finally offered myself to Peeta and he turned me away. A rush of thoughts began going through my mind. _Does he find me unappealing? Does he want to give me a taste of what it was like to be rejected? Was this some sort of lesson Peeta was so good at giving me?_ I looked down at myself and saw the outline of my nipples straining against the white cotton of my shirt. I could see the flesh between my breasts from the buttons that hung open and saw the scar that trailed up the center and veered to the left. It was then that I began looking at the physical imperfections up and down my arms. I ran the tips of my fingers over the scar just behind my ear and wondered if maybe, just maybe the remnants of war that scarred my body disgusted Peeta. The idea of this had my temper quickly flaring. I stormed out of my house, slamming the door behind me, and headed straight towards the area Peeta had his garden in. I found him leaning against the wall of the house mumbling something to himself, and then another thought hit me. _Could this be a flashback?_ “Peeta?” I asked cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“Go home, Katniss,” he said tightly without facing me.

“Then tell me what's wrong. Are you having a flashback?” Even as I said it I realized how stupid it sounded. I knew what those were like, and if Peeta was going through one, he sure as hell wouldn't be so controlled.

“Just go home,” he barely glanced over his shoulder, snapping at me and I was pissed once again.

I was now certain the reason he left so abruptly was because my physical appearance was no longer appealing to him. “No one said you had to kiss me,” I snapped back. “If it disgusts you so much, just...just keep your hands to yourself from now on.”

“What?” Peeta turned a very confused expression towards me.

“You heard me,” I stood defiant. “If kissing me is so repulsive, then don't do it. I never said...”

“Is that what you think?” He interrupted me, but I didn't answer him. I just stood there staring daggers at him. “Christ,” he said on a grunt and before I knew it he had me pushed up against the wall of his house and was kissing me again.

“Sto...” I tried to speak, but his mouth was relentless. My intention was to push him away, but I quickly fell defenseless from the feel of Peeta's tongue delving in and out of my mouth, and his hands roaming up the sides of my body and wound up digging my fingers into his arms and pulling him closer. “Oh God,” I breathed out when he finally pulled his lips away from mine and rested them against the edge of my ear just next to the scar.

“Do you think I don't want you?” He asked softly. If I had the ability to speak, I would have, but all I could do was nod my head. “Oh God, Katniss,” he said throatily before brushing the lower half of his body against mine. My eyes flew open at the feel of something hard grazing against me. Peeta pulled his head far enough away so he could look me in the eyes and asked, “Get it now? I do want you, Katniss. I want you so much I can barely think straight.” He placed a few kisses against my jaw and trailed them up to my ear. “I want you more than I want my next breath,” he sighed in my ear.

A thrill shot through me at his confession. “Then why did you leave?” I asked quietly, curious as to why he wouldn't give into the urges we were both feeling.

“I had to,” he spoke between the soft pecks he was trailing down my neck. “We can't...” he placed his lips close to mine and I could see the storm brewing in his eyes.

My hands hooked his shoulders from behind. “We were just kissing,” I placed a light one against his lips.

Peeta's fingertips curled into my hair. “Just one more,” it was like he was saying it to himself more than he was saying it to me. “One more.”

He finally caved in and kissed me again. Like earlier it was full of crazed passion. Neither one of us had any regards for where we were or who might catch us in our precarious position. Peeta had me pinned, quite voluntarily, against his house with not only his mouth, but his body. I tried to pull him as close as possible, wanting desperately to feel the weight of him pressing against my breasts. Together we began to devour each other once again, taking as much as the other person would allow without crossing the line of prudence to no avail. My hands were clinging tightly to him while his fingers dug into my skin. He skimmed his palms up my torso, resting them just underneath the curve of my breasts and I could feel his thumbs lightly graze the hardened peaks. A bolt of electricity shot through my core causing heat to form between my thighs. I ran my hands down his back and pulled him by the hips closer to me. He let out a groan when he pressed his hardness against my stomach and I began to wonder, _Is this how it happens? Is this how people give into their sexual desires? Not in the privacy of a person's home, but in a yard...in the middle of the day...where anyone could see._

Before I could even finish the thought a ball smacked into our feet and a masculine voice called out, “I'll get it.” Peeta and I startled apart and that's when I saw them. Gale and his brothers were about twenty feet away, staring at us.

Rory and Vick appeared to be amused as you'd expect a couple of young men to be when viewing a man with his hands on a woman's breasts in the middle of an ardent kiss. And Gale had fury written all over his face. Peeta bent down and picked up the ball, tossing it back towards Rory without saying a word.

I could see the confrontation in both Gale's and Peeta's eyes, but wanted no part of it. I turned my back towards the scene and heard Peeta say, “Go inside of my house, Katniss. I'll be right in.” But the idea of moving was horrifying.

I knew what I looked like. My hair was no longer neatly in its braid. I could feel the wisps that had come loose dusting against my neck. My skin was flushed, my lips swollen and once again hardened crests were straining against my shirt, practically screaming for all to hear, “Look what I was doing!”

I heard Gale say to his brothers, “Go home.” But Gale, himself, didn't follow them when they left. He just stood there staring at Peeta and I.

“Katniss,” Peeta said quietly in my ear, “go in my house. Now.”

There was no denying that words would be spoken between Peeta and Gale and there was no way on earth I could stand there and be part of the heated discussion. It was cowardly, I know, but I was humiliated at mine and Peeta's public display. The Capitol had thrived on putting mine and Peeta's “romance” on exhibit for any and all to see. Even after the Games our personal lives had been televised by the rebels. After the war was over I had sworn to myself that I would never allow myself to be put in that sort of position again. Yet there I was allowing Peeta certain privileges that left me feeling ashamed. And in public no less. There was no one to blame for these actions but Peeta and I.

I had no desire to look at Gale's expression, but my eyes darted towards his just the same as I walked past him and caught him looking me up and down, stopping at the engorged tips of my breasts. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I quickly made my way into Peeta's house. Clamping my hands over my breasts, I let out a little grunt of mortification and raced towards the back of Peeta's house. Grateful that he had left a few windows open, I listened in as the two men that had been vying for my affections for the past few years had words with one another.

“...anxiety?” I heard the last word of Gale's question. “Can't perform unless you've got an audience?”

“What bothers you more Gale? The fact that she doesn't love you or that she loves me?” I buried my face in my hands at Peeta's response.

“Don't fool yourself into thinking what the two of you have is love, Peeta. I know Katniss better than you'll ever hope to and the only reason she's keeping up with this charade is because she can't handle being alone right now.”

Peeta let out a disgruntled chuckle. “You really believe that, don't you?”

“I told you once before, she's going to choose who she needs to survive and right now that's you, but I'm a patient man.”

“You might be patient, Gale, but you're also delusional if you think she's with me because she needs me to survive.” I peeked out the corner of the window and saw Peeta step closer to Gale. “Christ, do you think so little of her...of the woman you claim to love, that you think she'd base her choices on something so selfish?”

Gale gave his head a little shake and smirked at Peeta. “I don't think _she's_ the selfish one. I think you're the one that's selfish.”

“That's a joke, right?”

“You know damn well that she's vulnerable right now and you're practically forcing yourself on her,” I could not only see the anger on Gale's face, but hear it in his voice.

“Forcing myself on her?” Peeta let out a burst of laughter. “If you know Katniss as well as you claim to than you'd know no one could force her to do anything she didn't want to do.” I hid my face in my hands completely embarrassed by what it was Gale assumed Peeta and I were up to. “Why don't you just go back to Two, Gale and leave me and Katniss alone.”

“Why don't _you_ go to hell,” Gale snarled.

“Been there a few times already. I prefer being in Twelve with Katniss.” I could tell Peeta was getting under Gale's skin with his quick witted responses.

I saw Gale step nose to nose with Peeta, or nose to forehead rather, and listened as he said, “You may have pulled the wool over everyone else's eyes, but I know a manipulator when I see one Peeta and if it's the last thing I do, I'm going to remind Katniss exactly who it is she's gotten herself involved with.”

“Katniss already knows exactly who it is she got involved with so keep your threats to yourself.”

“Who said it was a threat?” I slunk back against the wall and let my body slide down at Gale's next words, “Enjoy her while you can because...”

I jumped up and ran out of Peeta's house, heading straight for my own, wanting nothing more than to pretend that none of this was happening. I simply couldn't listen to either one of them anymore. Both staking some sort of claim on me like I was a piece of property. By the time Peeta found me pacing back and forth through my living room I had worked myself up into a frenzy. He had barely made it through the door before I was jumping down his throat with both feet. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can just do that to me in public?”

“Whoa,” he held up his hands like he was surrendering. “I didn't do a damn thing _to_ you.”

“Oh really? Then what the hell was that out there?” I pointed out the window towards his house. “Were you marking your turf or something? My God, Peeta. I was mortified!”

“Mortified?” He asked with raised brows. “Because I kissed you or because Gale saw it?”

Ignoring his insinuation I continued yelling out my displeasure. “I refuse to put on another show! You want to kiss me than do it in the privacy of one of our homes, not in the middle of your yard!”

“You mean in public, don't you?” Peeta stepped closer to me and got a look of controlled anger on his face. “God forbid someone sees that you actually have feelings for me too. No, that wouldn't do at all would it, Katniss?”

“One thing has nothing to do with the other,” I barked.

“It has _everything_ to do with it!” Peeta ran a hand through his hair leaving it in disheveled spikes. “You race out there accusing me of not wanting you, and the second you see that I do...that _Gale_ sees it, you turn on me? What the hell is that?”

“This has nothing to do with Gale!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, but somewhere inside I questioned my own declaration.

“Know what your problem is, Katniss?” He didn't wait for me to answer. He just continued without pause. “You're petrified of your feelings for me. You liked what happened between us just as much as I did, and that scares you.” I stood frozen in my spot with my arms crossed over my chest. “It's either that, or you're afraid your ex will think that.”

“Gale is not my ex,” my eye twitched as I spoke.

“That's not the way he made it sound.” Peeta strode into the kitchen and I followed him.

“Where do you think you're going? I'm not through with you yet.”

“Well, I'm through with this entire thing.” He got a glass of water and drank the whole thing down then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why don't I make life easier for you, Katniss. You don't have to worry about where I kiss you anymore.”

“Good,” I was quite pleased that I got my point across.

“In fact, you won't have to worry about me kissing you at all.” He dropped his glass in the sink with a clunk. “From this point on, we'll stick with being friends and only friends. I'll keep up the charade with our engagement, but other than that, you won't have to worry about whether or not I'm going to touch you...let alone kiss you.”

That was not what I wanted in the slightest. “I didn't say you had to stop kissing me.”

“Well, I'm saying it.” He started walking from the room and stopped when we stood shoulder to shoulder. “You want a kiss, then you'll have to be the one to come and get it. I'm through being the one wearing my heart on my sleeve.” He left me standing there while he walked up the stairs taking them two at a time.

Peeta was true to his word. Within fifteen minutes of our exchange he asked me, as though nothing had happened, if I had any dirty laundry and proceeded to throw a load in the wash. He went about daily chores as though there was nothing wrong and it infuriated me. Did he think his aloof attitude was going to bother me? I was determined not to let if bug me at all. If he wanted to play these games I could too. That night when we went to bed I had expected him to say he was going home or sleeping on the couch...something. Instead he climbed under the covers and said, “G'night, Katniss,” then rolled onto his side facing away from me. I punched my pillow and turned my back to him too.

Falling asleep did not come easily that night as I kept hearing Gale's voice replaying in my mind. “Enjoy her while you can... Enjoy her while you can...” It was obvious that Gale thought Peeta and I had a much more intimate relationship than we did. And who could blame him for making such assumptions after the show Peeta and I had put on. I made a little grunt as I thought of it. I couldn't get the expression on Gale's face out of my head. _What do you care what he thinks? He means nothing to you anymore. Yes, but once upon a time he did_. I rubbed my fingers at the bridge of my nose hoping to avert the headache that was beginning to form behind my eyes. I could hear the sound of Peeta's soft snore behind me and the first thing that popped into my mind was, S _hut up._ I was livid with him for what he put me through. First leaving me with questions in the midst of that kiss. Second for not stopping when I told him to. _But you didn't tell him to stop. Yes I did! No, you didn't. You said, sto...while pulling him closer to you._ I shot up in bed and began replaying the whole incident in my head only to find that the memory of Peeta's kiss...his hands on my body, had my own reacting as though we were in the middle of it at that very moment. My head fell back against the pillow as I let out a grunt.

“Katniss?” Peeta looked towards me. “You okay? Nightmare?”

“I'm fine. Go back to sleep.” Twenty minutes earlier I would have snarled that at him, but now... _You realized that you were just as much to blame for what happened outside as Peeta, right?_ “Oh, shut the hell up,” I mumbled to myself and punched at the pillow, forcing my eyes closed and not getting a wink of sleep.

The next day was spent with Peeta being cordial to me, but far from affectionate. I studied the cheese buns on the counter and dumped them in two bags. _They need to go. But only half belong to you, Katniss_. I really hated the logical side of me that had been showing up lately. With the bags in hand I turned to Peeta who was sitting in the living room working on the book and said, “I'll be back.” He didn't even respond to me. “I'm going to Greasy Sae's.” Still nothing. “Then I'm going to strip down to nothing, set my hair on fire and run around the center of town.” When Peeta waved absently at me, I stormed out of the house with a slam of the door.

Later in the day Peeta asked what I wanted for dinner and said he was going to take a walk into town to pick something up since I hadn't been hunting for a while. He even asked if I wanted to go with him.

I was desperately trying to figure out how long he was going to keep this up. One minute Peeta couldn't keep his hands off of me and the next he was treating me like nothing more than a roommate. I couldn't stop thinking about the things I had said to him and cringed at my use of the word, “mortified.” If Peeta had said that to me, I would have been not only furious, but hurt as well.

“I'll be back soon,” he strapped my game bag onto his shoulder. “Need anything?”

Yes, I needed him to forgive my outburst and forget that it happened. “No. I'm fine.”

“Okay. See ya later,” he shut the door quietly behind him.

I stared at it with tears quickly forming in my eyes. Ever since Gale had returned I couldn't seem to get a handle on my temper. The worst part was that it was always directed at Peeta. Honestly, I had no clue why I jumped up, ran out the door and called to him, “Peeta!” He stopped in his tracks allowing me to catch up. “I think I'll go with you if that's okay?” I began looking for any excuse as to why other than the truth which was, I hated being alone. _No. You hate being without Peeta_. “I...uh...haven't really been out of the house much.”

“You're always welcome to come on a walk with me, Katniss. Give me a second though, okay?” He took up a little jog and knocked on Gale's door. I saw the two of them exchange a few words, saw Gale look over at me, and then Peeta returned. “Got to let him know when you leave. Don't want you to get in trouble.”

We walked quietly side by side. Me not knowing what to say and Peeta looking as though he were on an afternoon stroll without a care in the world. When we got into town I took notice of the one building that stood out like a sore thumb. The bakery. My eyes darted towards Peeta, but he didn't even glance in the direction of it.

“Afternoon Rooba,” Peeta said as we walked into the butcher shop. “What's fresh?”

“Got some chickens in this morning,” she said while I looked through the glass counter at the meats on display. None of them looked as fresh as what I could have shot...if I had been allowed to go hunting.

Rooba had been one of a few shop owners that had made it out of Twelve after the bombing. I wasn't quite sure how any of them survived considering the entire town had been leveled, but I was happy she had made it. When news came that people could return to Twelve, she was one of the first to rebuild. There weren't many people in our district, maybe a couple of hundred, some old, some new, but it was starting to look like it was on its way to thriving once again. I ignored the conversation she was having with Peeta until I heard her say, “When are you going to open up the bakery again? This town could really use one.”

I noticed Peeta's expression changing to one of uncertainty, but he feigned a smile at the butcher and said, “If you need some bread, just give me a holler. I'd be happy to bake some for you.” Peeta grabbed the meat Rooba had wrapped, tucked it into the game bag and handed her payment. “Take care,” he held the door open for me.

“Nice seeing you two out and about,” she flashed me an approving grin.

“Bye,” I waved a hand at her and stepped out into the warm sun unsure of what to say to Peeta. I could see that Rooba's innocuous question had thrown him for a loop as he was standing frozen in place, staring at the burnt wreckage of the place he had once called home. “Let's go to the candy store.”

“What?” Peeta gave his head a little shake, clearing away the cobwebs.

“Let's get some candy. Come on,” I reached for his hand and was surprised that he took mine. “How about some peppermints? You like those, right?”

“Yeah,” he glanced back over his shoulder at the bakery.

“We should pick up some vegetables too to go along with the chicken, don't you think?” I had quickly become a chatterbox, wanting to keep Peeta's mind off of his family's brutal demise. “Maybe some roasted potatoes and onions? Doesn't that sound good?”

“Sure.” He gave me a forced smile, but I could see the pain in his eyes and thought maybe we should just head straight home instead.

“Peeta, we can leave if you want?”

“No. I'm fine.” But he wasn't fine and things just proceeded to get worse the longer we stayed in town. The shop owner of the candy store also asked Peeta when he was going to reopen the bakery as did the owner of the general market. It seemed to be the standing question whenever Peeta and I went to town, and it was getting on my nerves.

I held onto his hand while we walked home, making casual conversation about the weather...his garden...the herbs he used for the bread he baked that morning. Anything to keep his mind off of the bakery.

“Maybe I'll make a stuffing out of the herb bread,” he suggested and I breathed out a sigh of relief thinking that we had narrowly avoided what could have resulted in a flashback.

“What do we do first?” I asked upon entering the kitchen. “I'm not too good with chicken so you'll have to teach me.” Whatever issues he and I had were now a thing of the past. We both knew how important keeping him in a good frame of mind was.

“You can wash the chicken while I cut up the bread for stuffing.” He took out the ingredients we had purchased and a wooden chopping block.

“Want me to wash the veggies too?” I let the chicken drip into the sink and placed it in the baking dish Peeta set next to me.

“Yeah, but wash your hands first. Don't want to cross contaminate.”

“Seriously? Why does it even matter?” I rolled my eyes. “I mean, the veggies are going into the pan right alongside of the raw chicken. Won't that cross contaminate them?”

Peeta let out a little chuckle and I followed suit with one of my own. “Come here when you're through and I'll teach you how to make stuffing.”

“Do I have to learn?” I wrinkled my nose up at him. “If you teach me then you might expect me to do the cooking from now on.” I was thrilled when he let out another laugh and felt the weight of the day lift. “I'd much prefer it if you did the cooking.”

“Shut up and come over here,” he said as he cubed the bread. “First thing you want to do is make sure you cut the bread into uniform pieces.” He held up a chunk. “Nice little squares.” he glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, hey...turn the oven on for me will you?”

“What temperature?” I asked as I stepped towards it, but Peeta didn't answer. “Peeta, what temperature do you want it set on?” When he didn't answer again, I turned to him and saw his hands shaking uncontrollably. “Peeta,” I breathed out rushing to his side, gripping his wrists and trying desperately to get the knife out of his hand.

“DON'T TOUCH ME!” His scream echoed through the kitchen. “GET AWAY FROM ME!”

I had finally wrestled the knife free from his grasp. I knew he wouldn't hurt me with it, but I was afraid he might hurt himself. “It's okay, Peeta.” I held his wrists tightly in my hands and lowered down my voice until it was just above a whisper. “I think you and I should take a trip to the lake once Haymitch gets back.” I pressed my lips against his ear and felt his body stiffen. “Wouldn't that be nice, Peeta? We could pack a picnic and spend the night there. We can camp out in the little shack next to it. You'd love it there. It's so green this time of year and there are so many birds. All sorts of birds. Duck. Geese. There are even a couple of swans that live there during the warm months. They all fly away when it gets cold out, but they come back every year. Isn't that amazing? They know where home is and every year they return to it.” I could feel his body slowly relaxing. “My favorite time to go to the lake is right after the birds leave. There's usually a chill in the air, but the sun is so bright it misleads you into thinking it's warm out.” Peeta blew out a few deep breaths against my neck and I knew the worst had passed, but he was still clenching his hands into tight fists so I continued on. “There's usually snow on the mountain peaks that time of the year and it makes such a pretty backdrop for the autumn colors. But the lake...it looks so peaceful, Peeta. It's like a mirror reflecting the sun's rays off of it. I always wondered what it would be like to let myself float in it when there were no birds around.”

“Why don't you do it?” He asked quietly and I knew he was finally back.

“It's too cold,” I answered. “Here,” I released my hands from his wrists and led him towards a chair. “Sit down.” I grabbed a kitchen towel, dampening it with warm water and wiped away the tears and mucus streaming from his nose. “Better?”

“Yeah,” he rested back in his seat.

“Want to lie down?” He was so tired. They made him weak. It was like the flashbacks sucked the life out of him and trying to get him to rest afterward was hit or miss. He would either fall dead asleep or he'd be too terrified to close his eyes.

“NO!” I could tell by the way he responded that it was going to be the latter.

“How about lying on the sofa?” I hoped he would go for my suggestion.

“No,” he gave his head a shake. “I just want to finish making dinner.” He stood up and fell back into his chair. “Just give me a minute.”

There would be no arguing with him, a lesson I had finally learned, so I offered up an alternative. “Why don't I bring everything to the table and you can tell me what to do?” This appeased him and within twenty minutes I had dinner in the oven.

A couple of hours later I made up some plates and brought them into the living room where Peeta was resting with his head against the back of the sofa. I set the plates on the coffee table and went back to the kitchen for a couple of glasses of juice. As I removed the glasses from the cupboard I took notice of the remaining cheese buns sitting on the counter. “For every one you make you get one kiss,” I repeated the words I had spoken to him. “Peeta?” I said softly as I stood in front of him.

“Yeah,” he was staring intently at his dinner plate, pushing the food around with a fork. “What is it, Katniss?” He finally looked up at me and I held my offering out to him.

“I'd like to trade this in.”

He studied the bun I had in the palm of my hand and lifted his eyes to mine then sat back against the sofa. “Come here,” he tugged my hand pulling me into a straddling position on his lap and hugged me. The bun fell onto the floor and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as tightly as I could. “Oh Katniss,” he sighed against my shoulder. “I'm sorry I snapped at you.”

  
  


“I'm sorry too. I should have never said those things to you, Peeta.”

“But you have to understand something, Katniss,” he stroked some stray pieces of hair behind my ear. “That probably won't be the last time I kiss you in public.”

“I know,” I rested my cheek on his shoulder, facing outward. “And that probably won't be the last time I complain about it.”

“I'll probably get carried away again too.”

“And I'll probably like it and act like I don't afterward,” I turned my lips towards his neck and placed a kiss against it. “I'm sorry I reacted the way I did.”

“Me too,” I felt his lips press against the side of my hair. “What a pair we make, huh?” His hand traveled down my back and up again. We sat quietly for a minute or two, allowing each other time to put the event behind us and forgive. “Hey,” he whispered, “thought you said you were gonna trade that cheese bun in.”

I smiled against his shoulder then lifted my face to his, placing a very delicate kiss against his lips.

Our next kiss wasn't him pursuing me, nor was it me looking for some sort of vindication. It was a mutual motion between two people who were in need of reassurance. It was a healing kiss. One that said we were both wrong. We had both made mistakes and would most likely continue to make them if we stayed on the current path we were traveling down, but if we could learn from them, we'd be okay.

Just as the kiss started warming me from the inside out, Peeta pulled away from me. “Katniss,” he said thickly. “Either you need to get off of my lap or close the drapes.” I glanced over my shoulder and noticed that with the lamp on next to us and the sheer panels over the windows, anyone could see what was going on from any of the houses in Victor's Village. “We should probably eat before Buttercup decides to do it for us,” Peeta motioned his head towards the mangy cat who was currently aiming his beady little eyes on our forgotten plates.

I reached down and picked up the cheese bun I had dropped on the floor and threw it at him. “Eat that so you can fatten up and I can turn you into a stew,” I glared at the cat who didn't even flinch when the bun landed next to him.

“You two really need to work out these issues,” Peeta gave me a pat just below my waistband and I climbed off of him. “You know Dr. Aurelius has done wonders for me, maybe he can help you and Buttercup out,” Peeta chuckled while I rolled my eyes.

“Hey,” I leaned over him, intent on making sure the air was clear between us. “You can kiss me anytime you want, Peeta. Any _where_ you want.”

It didn't dawn on me how provocative that statement was until Peeta lifted a brow and asked, “Are we talking geographically or physically?”

Naturally I answered with a scowl and walked towards the kitchen.

“Okay,” he chuckled. “We'll say geographically,” he called out to me.

I glanced over my shoulder and said, “For now.” My eyes widened as Peeta's jaw dropped. “Want some juice? I'm gonna get some juice.” I ducked into the kitchen, stunned by my own loose tongue, leaving a shocked Peeta to mull what I had insinuated over.

There was a nervous energy flowing between Peeta and I for the remainder of the evening. I wondered what bed would be like that night. If he would kiss me the way he had in my living room...against the wall of his house. More than that I wondered if he would touch my breasts again. I wasn't sure if I was disappointed or relieved when our kiss goodnight was nothing more than a lingering meeting of lips. It took me a little while to fall asleep, and when I did I was awoken less than an hour later by Peeta's pacing back and forth. He had a nightmare and no paints to get through it.

“Peeta,” I sat up and held my arms out to him. He crawled into them like a lost child and I sat with him, rocking back and forth until his spine stiffened, his hands fisted and his entire body trembled. It was the first of two flashbacks that night and though he was exhausted, whenever he would lull off, his head would snap up and his entire body would startle. It was a very long night that would unbeknownst to me turn into a distressing few days.

By the next afternoon Peeta was trying to convince me to take a nap."Just try and get some rest, Katniss. Go upstairs and close your eyes for a little while."

"That's not going to happen."

"Then lie on the couch." I gave him a stern look at his suggestion. "You practically fell asleep while you were eating lunch today. Please." He guided me to the sofa and sat me down. "Lie down for a bit and I'll be right here. I won't go anywhere and if anything happens, you'll hear it. Okay?"

I was exhausted. Peeta had finally fallen asleep sometime right before the sun came up. I, on the other hand, couldn't close my eyes. All I could do was watch him sleep. I brought the book upstairs and began writing Cinna's story in it. When the words got blurry, I put down the pen and made Peeta's breakfast.

"Rest, Katniss." Peeta pressed me down into the sofa cushions. "Close your eyes and sleep."

It was going to be hard to keep an eye on him tonight if I didn't try and sleep, so I finally agreed. "But only for an hour. You have to wake me up in an hour, okay?"

"Okay." He kissed my head.

"Promise?"

"I promise. Now shut up and sleep,” he said gently to which I replied with a scowl. Of course he just grinned.

I woke up to voices. I could hear them talking in the kitchen. Hazelle and Peeta.

"I know it's been difficult for her, Peeta, but maybe she could just consider it?" Hazelle was talking.

"I can't promise anything, but I'll ask her."

_Ask me what?_ I just lay there with my eyes closed. Eavesdropping. I'd have felt bad about it, but since they were talking about me, I thought I had the right to hear what was being said.

Hazelle started speaking again, "He lost his best friend when he lost Katniss."

"He's not acting like a friend right now. He's been a bit…"

"I know how's he's been acting. But Peeta. Put yourself in his shoes."

"I was in his shoes. My whole life." Peeta sounded like he was in pain.

"Then you understand." Hazelle paused. "You'll talk to her?"

I could hear Peeta sigh. "I'll mention it, but I don't know that she'll want to."

_See Gale? Talk to him? Nope. Most certainly not._

Peeta continued, "I do think that they need to get this worked out though. It's really taking a toll on, her."

"I could tell. Is she feeling better?"

"Each day has its own new struggles, Hazelle. But we seem to get through them okay."

"You seem to help her get through a lot."

"Trust me, she's just as much help to me…more probably. We both have a lot to put behind us, but some things just seem to linger." He sounded so sad.

"Peeta, if there's anything I can do. Anything at all. Please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you."

"Thanks again for the bread and cookies. They were delicious. So were those buns Katniss brought over."

_Uh oh. She's ratting me out._ I had to get rid of them somehow. There was no way I could eat two dozen cheese buns. But Greasy Sae and Hazelle seemed to appreciate the extra dozen. Okay, who was I kidding. They reminded me of the little deal Peeta and I struck and I had to get them the hell away from me.

"She shared those with you?" I could hear Peeta's smile.

"Yes. They were delicious."

"They're her favorites."

"And I hear they're worth one kiss each." Hazelle joked. Peeta laughed. "Thanks again, Peeta."

"Talk to you soon." I listened as he walked to the door, opened then closed it.

_Okay, now what? Do I pretend to be asleep? Do I just get up?_ I decided to give myself a minute to rehash what I had just heard. _What did Peeta mean when he said he was in Gale's shoes his whole life? And why would he have to be put in Gale's shoes anyway? Peeta didn't do anything wrong. Did Gale?_ I had no clue where that thought came from, but while I was trying to decipher my thinking, Peeta came over and began to gently rouse me.

"Katniss. It's time to get up."

I opened my eyes and stared at him. "I wasn't sleeping."

"Oh." Peeta just looked at me and said, "How long have you been awake?"

"A little while." _Do I tell him I heard the conversation? No lying Katniss._ "What were you talking about with Hazelle? What do you have to ask me?" I sat up and Peeta took residency in the spot next to me.

"Gale wants to go hunting tomorrow. With you."

"Why didn't he ask me himself?"

"Gee, Katniss. I wonder why."

"Don't. Don't do that Peeta. Don't come here and try to take Gale's side.” That was the last thing I needed. I was ready for a fight. Just not the kind of fight that was about to happen.

"I'm not!" He put his hand on my knee. "I'm on your side. I'm always on your side, but… You two really need to talk this out."

"What's there to talk about?" I got up and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. I had no desire to work through anything with Gale.

"You need to tell him how you're feeling." Peeta followed me. "Yell at him. Do something! You can't keep pretending like he doesn't exist or that he'll just go away."

"Why not?" _He is going to go away. Eventually._

"Because no matter how much you wish it away, it's just not going to disappear." He sat down at the kitchen table and said to me, "Do you remember what you told me when you saw my painting of Darius?"

_Yes, but I don't want to hear it._

He continued,"You said, no matter how hard we try to bury the memories, they keep finding us."

_I hate it when I say something smart._

"You were right. Even if Gale leaves tomorrow, he'll still come back to visit his family. And you'll still be harboring unanswered questions." Peeta folded his hands in front of him and just stared at them. "I'll be honest with you if you're honest with me." I really didn't like where this was going. "Do you remember when we were in District Thirteen and I…" He cleared his throat. "I treated you very badly while we were in the dining hall? I asked you if Gale and you were a couple and then I said some pretty unflattering things to you?"

How could I forget that? I was certain that Peeta hated me. "Yes. But that wasn't you talking Peeta. That was the Capito…"

He interrupted me. "It was me, Katniss." He stood up and began pacing back and forth. "It's called jealousy. I was jealous."

"No, you were hijacked."

"Yes. There was that, but not in that moment." He stopped walking and faced me. "When I saw the two of you...so comfortable together it drove me crazy. I hated that you could be like that with someone else. Hated that I knew you were spending so much time with him…kissing him."

My heart broke from the expression on his face and the anguish in his voice. _What did I do to you, Peeta?_ "I never meant to hurt you."

"I know that, but it hurt anyway. And I took it out on you. All the years that you and Gale spent together…the way you looked at him…"

"How did I look at him?" As far as I knew, I looked at Gale the same way as I looked at everybody else.

"You looked at him like you loved him."

My jaw dropped as I thought to myself, _I did?_

"But that's not the problem here,” Peeta said. “The problem is that…" He looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath releasing it very slowly. "I need to know, Katniss. I need to know if there's still something there between the two of you. And I think you need to find out for yourself too."

How could there be something between me and Gale? I couldn't even look at him. Especially after he caught Peeta and I in a somewhat compromising position. "There's nothing there, Peeta. It's all in your head."

"No it's not, Katniss."

"Yes, Peeta. It is."

"Are you seriously standing there and telling me that you had no feelings for him?" I could tell that Peeta was getting upset with me. "That there was never anything between the two of you?"

Was there? At one point I was certain that it was Gale I loved, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. Honesty, as it turned out, was a very hard thing to accomplish. "No. I guess there was."

"And do you miss it?"

"No." This I was sure of.

"You don't miss hunting with him? Or talking to him? Or…Or…" I didn't want Peeta to finish the last question. Kissing him?

"I miss the old Gale. The one I hunted with, but not the Coin version of him. Not the Gale he became in District Thirteen. He changed, Peeta."

Peeta took my hands and said, "We all changed." Then he dropped them and walked out of the kitchen.

"Peeta?" We weren't done yet. "If this bothers you so much. This whole Gale thing. Then why do you want me to spend time with him?"

"I told you. I need to know if there's still anything there." He went into my room and grabbed his sketch pad. He flipped open the page and showed me an image he had drawn of me. "See this?" I looked at myself. I was in bed. Asleep. Peeta's shirt was hanging off of my shoulder. The sheets were tangled between my legs. The blanket was completely discarded. My hair was in two braids and I had a look of peace on my face. The next picture he showed me was of me smiling at him over a cup of tea. It was the position I take almost every morning while Peeta baked and I watched. Me sitting at the kitchen table with a foot tucked under me. The final picture was of me walking out the front door with a bow in my hand and my quiver of arrows and game bag over my shoulder. It looked like I was saying goodbye. And I wondered if I really looked like that or if that's how Peeta saw me. I wondered if my eyes actually sparkled at him that way. Something inside of me, said that they did. That that's exactly how I looked at Peeta. "I love this girl, Katniss."

"Peeta…" He held up his hand to stop me from speaking.

"Don't say anything. I wouldn't believe it anyway." He was hurt. So hurt and once again I had caused this pain.

I thought of our ride back to District Twelve after the first arena. How I had gradually pushed him away from me during that trip. And the months afterward we barely spoke. I thought of the spats we had been having since Gale's return, the most recent one when I switched from hot to cold within a split second, and said some very unkind things to Peeta.

“Why not?" Was I really going to say I loved him back? I had no clue.

"Because no matter how much you say or do, I realized, that I could never be sure you were telling me the truth until you figured out your feelings for Gale."

It was my turn to be wounded, but I snapped out of that with an accusation, "All because Hazelle asked you to put yourself in Gale's shoes?" Dealing with pain had never been something I was good at. You'd think I would have learned my lesson from the recent argument, Peeta and I had, but it seemed that history was repeating itself.

"Not because of that. This has been on my mind since I decided to come back to the district."

"This whole time you've been…what? Analyzing me? Our relationship?" This irked me. But wasn't that exactly what I was doing too?

"Yes. Wouldn't you?"

_Yes. I would. I did. I still am._ "So now what?” I asked. “If I don't go with Gale tomorrow and hash things out…then you and I are through?" This thought seemed to cause a sharp pain in my chest. I felt like there was a ton of bricks hanging over my head by a very precarious thread and they could drop at any moment.

"I don't know." The thread broke. The bricks fell. And I was crushed. Peeta. The one that would never leave me. The one that I could always count on. Was going to leave me after all. "I don't know if I could be around you, Katniss. Not without…loving you." It was barely audible. "I'm going home for a little while. I'll see you later."

So that was it. Peeta needed me to face what I had with Gale. He needed me to put his mind at ease. _Well what about my mind? What about my feelings?_ But, I knew, with Peeta, it was always about my feelings. He never put himself first. Even when he was lying in the cave with a gash in his thigh, he was worried about my well being. I sat on the edge of my bed and willed myself to call Gale. _Peeta needs you to do this._ I couldn't. I just couldn't. Being told what to do was not something I particularly enjoyed. I had to deal with it in both arenas. At the Capitol. In other districts. _Yes, but this is for Peeta,”_ I tried to reason with myself _._ I needed to spend some time thinking. When dinnertime came, I went downstairs and prepared some broth. Food didn't seem appealing to me. _Where was Peeta? It's almost 7:00pm._ At 7:15 I told myself to, _Call him. He could be having another flashback._ So I did. "Peeta?"

"Yes."

"Um…I was worried about you."

"I'm fine, Katniss." He sounded like he was suffering as much as I was.

"Okay."

"See ya, Katniss." He hung up without saying goodbye.

I started beating myself up about not calling Gale. About not coming right out and asking Peeta to come home, because that's what it was. This was no longer just my home, but Peeta's. And his home was just as much mine. _Are you coming back?_ I worried while staring at the clock and gnawing at the inside of my cheek. At 7:50 there was no sign of him. At 8:05 I knew the answer. Peeta wouldn't be spending the night with me until I figured some things out.

I was angry. So angry. Not at Peeta, but at myself for believing this could still happen for him and I. I went to my bedroom and stripped off my clothes, turned the shower on as hot as I could take it and stepped inside. My fists began pounding against the wall. My stomach clenched as I sank to my knees and sobbed. It was one thing to lose someone to death, but knowingly allowing someone you cared about to walk out of your life and not doing a damn thing about it, was cowardly...weak and just as devastating. When I couldn't cry anymore, I got out and dried myself off. I grabbed the first shirt I could find in the bedroom, Peeta's, and put it on. The scent of herbs and cinnamon hit me forcefully and I cried some more. At 10:00pm I went downstairs for some tea and sitting on my counter was a loaf of bread. Not just any bread, but a hearty loaf filled with raisins and nuts. The bread he threw to me in the rain. I went back upstairs and lay down on top of the blankets we slept beneath each night thinking that the tears had finally come to an end, but then I pulled a pillow to my chest and Peeta's scent lingered on the case. A combination of the daily spices he used, a faint hint of yeast, and his own natural, male aroma. The last time I looked at the clock it was 10:30. I had finally cried myself to sleep. At 4:25am I jumped up. _Peeta? Where was he?_ It struck me like a blow to the gut. _He's gone, Katniss._ I dragged myself down the stairs and went to get a glass of water. When the study door opened I screamed and grabbed the first thing I could use as a weapon, a teacup then dropped it when I saw who it was. "What are you doing here?" Peeta had paint on his arms and hands. "Why are you in the study?"

"I brought a picture I'd been working on over so I'd have something to do tonight." He didn't leave me after all. It took everything I had not to run into his arms and beg for his forgiveness, but that wouldn't matter if I couldn't do the one thing he asked me to do.

"You made bread,” I said nervously.

"Yeah. I got a little antsy today. I also weeded my garden."

Wasn't he busy today? While I was sitting around trying to decide the course of the rest of my life, Peeta was painting, baking, weeding… _So much for being heart broken_.

"I needed to keep my mind off of things today...” Peeta lifted his morose expression to mine. “Off of you."

"Oh." I felt so low. How quickly I thought the worst of him. Of everyone really. All I ever did was see the worst in people. As I stood there and drank the sight of him in, I knew that I had shattered his world more times than any one human being should. The decision was made in an instant. "I need to go." I ran upstairs and changed my clothes. It was time to put on some hunting gear. I grabbed my bow and arrows, my game bag and headed out the door. I stopped when I got to the doorway and turned around. I entered the study and looked at Peeta standing over an easel with his paintbrush in hand and smiled. The sight of him there was so much more pleasant then the previous one I had of this room. "I'm going hunting." I ran up to him and before he could say anything, I kissed him smack on the lips. "I'll be back later." I ran out my door and headed straight for Gale's house.

When I pounded on Gale's door, I was sure I would wake the entire household, but he answered it within a few seconds. "Time to get up! We're going hunting."

Gale stood gawking at me. "Uh…Okay. Um…come in. Let me get dressed." He let me in and glanced at the clock. "It's 4:30 in the morning, Katniss. I could've used a head's up last night."

"Well I just decided about five minutes ago, so hurry up."

"Why? Are you going to change your mind, Catnip?"

"Nope." I didn't care if Gale called me Catnip or not. I didn't care about catching any game either. It was time to face a few things. Peeta needed me to confront my problems. Last night had been a small taste of what life without him would be like and I didn't care for it at all. I didn't know if I had any feelings left for Gale. Honestly I didn't really think there was anything there. Friendship maybe. Hopefully. But Peeta needed answers and I was going to give him some. I was willing to risk my life for Peeta's. Now I was going to face Prim's death and Gale for him too.

"Why don't you make some tea while I get dressed?" Gale suggested. “The thermos is in the pantry.” I guess I really hadn't planned on making a day of this hunting trip, but just in case it took longer than expected…

Gale was dressed. I made the tea and grabbed some water. Gale packed up some food and off we went. As we left Victor's Village and got closer to my old house I had a feeling of familiarity. How many times had Gale and I gone into these woods in the wee hours of the morning? Too many to count. I wondered if this time would be our last.

"I'm really glad we're doing this, Catnip." The boyish grin I had known my whole life was staring me in the face and I had to wonder if Peeta had been right after all. If there _was_ something between me and Gale. Something I had been avoiding all along.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr. I'm Jamiesommers23 and if you love Joshifer follow my joshiferrecs blog which hosts many Josh and Jen stories by a variety of authors. ~J


	10. Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss and Gale try to sort out their differences after the war.

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Ten: Expectations**

**The suspense is building. Will Katniss choose Peeta or will Gale win her back? Hmmmm... Happy Reading!**

**All mistakes are mine so if you find them please don't steal them.**

**The Road to Recovery**

As we entered the woods, I began to study Gale. He was handsome, I'd give him that, but his eyelashes were black and spiky. Not long, blond and curly. His hair was dark as midnight and straight as a pin. A far cry from light, golden waves that felt soft to the touch and curled around my fingers. Without knowing it, I was comparing Gale to Peeta. The differences were staggering. In every way. Their personalities alone were a total contradiction to one another. One of them was so much like me, filled with an abundance of anger and rage while the other was on the opposite end of the spectrum, filled with hope and forgiveness. It still amazed me that Peeta could see all that was good in the world after all we had been through, but somehow he did, and every now and then I'd get a glimpse of life through his eyes which enabled me to heal.

 

As I watched Gale make his way quietly through the woods I began to wonder if he had come back to Twelve like Peeta did, would he be the one that helped me through my nightmares? It was hard to imagine since many of them were filled with visions of Prim's demise, and no matter how hard I tried, I still equated Gale to the bomb and the bomb to my sister's death.

 

The path we traveled through the dense trees had been one Gale and I had gone down countless times over the years. Where once before we had to go deep into the woods, now there were no Peacekeepers that would make us suffer if we were caught poaching off the land so when Gale wanted to go deeper in I stopped him. The further we traveled from Victor’s Village the longer it would take me to get back and if anything happened with Peeta I’d need to get back quickly.

 

Gale began to set some snares and I waited. I saw three rabbits in the brush, but my bow and arrows stayed on my shoulder. I hadn’t made this trip for game. Catching a glimpse of Gale while the rising sun streaked through the branches of an old maple tree I recalled the day we had come to the woods after my first Games and how we picnicked on items I brought from my new home in Victor’s Village. And how, at the end of the day, he had taken my face in his hands and touched his lips to mine. I tried for a moment to recollect what it had felt like, but all I could remember was the taste of oranges lingering on our lips.

 

"Want some tea?" Gale asked, immediately tugging me into a present I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of.

 

"Sure." I sat on a rock about a foot away from him, hoping the tea would calm my nerves.

 

"So. Why'd you decide to go hunting with me?" Gale looked out over the rising sun which had almost reached its destination.

 

"Because Peeta asked me to." _He needs some answers_ , I thought to myself, but left that out. "And because we need to talk."

 

"So talk."

 

How did a person start a conversation like this? I could hear Peeta's words. _"Tell him how you feel. Yell at him. Do something!"_

 

So I started there. "I'm mad at you." The sound of Gale’s laughter exploded through the quiet woods not to mention in my ears. "This isn't funny, Gale." I was already exasperated and I hadn't even started chewing him out yet. "Don't laugh at me."

 

"I'm not laughing _at_ you, Katniss." Which I knew to be a crock of shit because he was still lightly chuckling and had a wicked gleam in his eyes and a devilish grin on his face that I was more than willing to wipe off. "It's just… the way you said that didn't sound like you at all. You've…changed."

 

"What is that supposed to mean?"

 

"For starters, you sounded pretty calm for someone who's mad. Before you would've just punched me or something."

 

"Who said I wouldn't?" There was a very good chance that Gale would go home with a black eye if he kept acting like an inconsiderate fool.

 

"Want some?" He handed me a little bag. The moment I opened it up and saw the buttery colored cookies with a scalloped trim, I knew they came from Peeta who had made them two days earlier for Posy. "They're good cookies. Your boy's quite the baker."

 

_No he's not. He's an artist._ I hated that Gale was talking about Peeta in such a condescending manor. I hated that he was talking about Peeta at all. "Yes. His cheese buns are my favorite,” I sounded overly sweet. "He makes them for me all the time."

 

"Yeah." That got the smile off of his face and our conversation back on track. "So why are you mad at me?"

 

There were a million reasons why I was angry with him. The Nut. This new persona he seemed to be taking on. Prim's death. And Peeta. "Pick a reason. I have a ton of them."

 

"Okay." Leaning back on his hands as though he had made himself comfortable, Gale said, "Let's start with Prim."

 

No. I didn't want to start with Prim. But I kept seeing Peeta's face. How hurt he'd been when he was talking to me yesterday. Even though he came over last night, he never told me he was there and he spent the entire time in the study. "Okay. Prim,” I conceded.

 

"I didn't know what Coin was planning, Katniss. I had no clue. Neither did Beetee. If we knew…if either one of us knew, we would've done something to stop it."

 

"I have a hard time believing that."

 

"That I knew or that I'd stop it?"

 

"Both." While we were in Thirteen I had watched Gale go from an angry man wanting to rid our nation of Snow’s cruel regime in order to provide a better life for his family, to one of Coin’s vengeful soldiers hell bent on destroying anyone or anything in his way.

 

"Are you forgetting that I'm the one who saved Prim's life after the fire bombs hit? Why would I turn?

around and kill her?"

 

In the span of seconds we were fighting. I told him that he had let his hatred for the Capitol cloud his judgment. “You blamed everyone that hadn’t suffered in the districts for the things that were out of their control!”

 

“They could have stood up to him! Plutarch did!”

 

“Plutarch had the ability to get out of the Capitol when things got hairy,” I grunted out my frustrations. “You think the rest of them, those people, could have stood up to Snow without being tortured? Christ! Look what happened to Portia and Peeta’s prep team!” I could feel my fingers clenching the metal cup my tea was in so tightly I was afraid I’d dent it. “All because they dressed Peeta! Geez! They killed all the prep teams because they were so damn paranoid!” Somewhere deep within me silent thanks went out to the universe for saving my “pet’s” lives.

 

“Oh, and that’s my fault too I suppose! Those people deserved to die for being a part of those damn Games!” The cookie in Gale’s hand crumbled as he threw it across the woods. “Dressing people up in those disgusting clothes… And the rest of them… dressing like lunatics! For what?!”

 

This brought on a whole new argument. “Be careful, Gale,” I gave his new hunting attire the once over. Sharply creased denim that hugged the lower half of his body tucked into fine quality leather boots that laced up to his mid-calf with a belt to match, a dark gray long-sleeved shirt that looked as soft as swan’s down and beneath it a skin tight shirt so black I wondered if the new dye would stain his skin. “You know what they say about people in glass houses.” I was disgusted with his new clothes. His new smug attitude. He couldn't even lift a finger to move his own mother into her new house.

 

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” His eyes narrowed in a deadly glare. “Are you seriously equating me to those… those… _people_?” He spat the last word out.

 

“It seems funny to me that you would hold what ‘those people’ wore against them, but you can’t do the same for yourself. Do you always wear brand new clothes hunting or is this just part of your new image?” I could tell I struck a nerve with him when I said that, but then I he said something that almost had me eating my words.

 

“Not all of us got to go home and get our old clothes, Katniss.”

 

“No, I guess not,” I said with a hint of sorrow in my tone. “But you’re awfully dressed up for hunting, Gale.” I reached out and rubbed his gray sleeve between my fingertips. “Silk?” His eyes darted to the side and the guilt that had started to solidify within me melted like wax in the sun. “Like I said…people in glass houses… Tell me Gale, what would you have done if you got blood on your fancy new shirt?”

 

 

“Blood washes away, Katniss.” The way he said it made me think we weren’t speaking about clothing any longer.

 

Staring down at my hands I remembered rubbing my own saliva on them to rid them of Rue’s blood after I buried her in flowers, and though the dried, caked substance had been rinsed off of my skin, there would always be a bright red stain burned into my flesh. “Not all of it does.” Silence grew uncomfortably pregnant between us as the call of a hawk screeched somewhere to the east and I yearned for the time when we could sit with nature’s music as the accompaniment to wordless exchanges.

 

Had I not had so many other issues to go over with him I would have stood up and gone back home…back to Peeta, but my dark side had yet to be satisfied and I found that there were still morals to be challenged like his decision making in District Two during the rebellion. "Why did you want to hurt all of those people in the Nut? We didn’t have to trap them that way. It was no better than Snow sending in hovercrafts to bomb Twelve." I kept thinking of my father’s saying about shooting fish in a barrel.

 

 

"That was different, Katniss. We were trying to win a war. Or don't you remember that?!" Our voices seemed to carry through the woods as they rose.

 

"No! I remember, but I still don't agree with what you did!"

 

"Neither do I." His confession surprised me. "Why do you think I'm living in District Two now?” His tone had turned remorseful. “It's not like I was appointed there or anything. I asked for it. I needed to help those people after what I did." At least he was owning up to his mistakes. Some of them. He told me about the reconstruction of the buildings. How he had learned things from Beetee and some of the local developers on building designs and structure. He was trying to help them put back what they had lost. "After the war ended, I took a look at the things that happened. When I thought back to some of the stuff I did… I didn't like it. I didn't like what I had become. Then you left and I thought about coming back here. My mom told me not to though. She said you needed some time.” He shrugged his shoulder while staring blankly a spot on the ground next to my feet. “I guess I knew she was right. That's when I went to District Two and started working there. I wanted to help them out."

 

I wondered if in helping others rebuild their home he was able to find some sort of peace. "Do you feel better?"

 

"A little. Not much though." He paused, gave me some careful consideration then asked, "Do _you_ feel better?"

 

"What do I need to feel better about?" As far as this conversation was concerned I hadn’t done anything to warrant regret.

 

"I don't know, Mockingjay. What do _you_ have to feel better about?" His voice not only rose, but had a wounding tone to it as though he wanted to pierce my conscience with his words. " _You_ didn't do anything wrong. _You_ didn't hurt any innocent people at all did you, Katniss?"

 

The image of the woman I shot in the Capitol came to mind. Glimmer…Cato…Cinna. "I guess we all have our regrets." My angry demeanor quickly changed to repentant.

 

"Some of us have more regrets than others."

 

"So tell me your regrets, Gale." I was curious as to what he felt he should make up for.

 

"My actions in District Two. Creating the bomb that ended so many lives." He paused then said, "Not coming back here with you. Not fighting for you."

 

And how was I supposed to respond to that? The only thing I could do was stare straight ahead and ignore his last statement.

 

"Are you going to say something?"

 

"What do you expect me to say?" Did he honestly think I’d start mooning over him like some lovesick twit that couldn’t bear to live without him near?

 

"How about, I wish you came back too or you can still fight for me?"

 

I just shook my head thinking, _Men are very confusing_.

 

The sound of Gale clearing his throat was followed up with his hand reaching for mine. The instant I felt it I pulled my own away and shrank to the side. "Please don't."

 

After some thought he said to me, "I'm sorry about Prim, Catnip. I really am. I'd have given my own life before I'd have ever let anything happen to her."

 

I turned my head and studied his expression. As much as it pained me, I believed him. "I know." I let out a deep, resigning breath. "Please understand that it's still hard for me, Gale. That was my sister who died out there."

 

"So you're saying you can't forgive me."

 

"No. I'm saying that it's going to take time. And I'll never forget it."

 

"Fair enough. I suppose if it were Posy out there and your bomb, I'd feel the same way."

 

I nodded my head and told him, "It's good that you're working in District Two." Which was a nice way of saying what was really going through my head, _I'm glad you're not living here on a permanent basis._

 

"Yeah, well it's not home, but I really couldn't come back here after what happened between us. I didn't think you'd want to see me."

 

"I didn't. I still don't." I couldn't help but grin at my chiding.

 

"Thanks, Catnip." He jabbed me with his elbow and chuckled. We sat quietly for a while and though it was nowhere near as comfortable as it used to be, it was most certainly an improvement over what we had experienced earlier in the day.

 

"Gale, I need to talk to you about something." It was time to face the music.

 

"Okay."

 

"What made you think you loved me? I mean, what was it that made you love me?" I wondered, _My hair? My winning personality? As if._ But I knew there had to be something about me that had him thinking about me in a different light.

 

"I don't know, Catnip. It just sort of snuck up on me. One day you were like my sister and the next I wanted to kiss you." His reasoning hadn’t helped in the least, nor did it answer my question. "Why did _you_ love _me_?"

 

With an accusatory look I asked, "Who said I did?"

 

"So you never had any feelings of love for me? Never thought about spending your life with me?"

 

"Of course I thought about it. I mean, how do you figure things out if you don't think about them?" Isn’t that how people decided their future with another person?

 

"You can just react to what you feel. Like, when someone says they love you. You could say it back…if you felt it."

 

"If I _did_ feel it, I'd say it." Questions popped into my head within a millisecond. _Would you, Katniss? Have you told Peeta yet? Told him that you love him?_

 

"Have you said it to Peeta yet?"

 

My head screamed, _Shut up Gale!_ But I said, "That's none of your business."

 

"I'm making it my business."

 

He had no right to assert himself into my life as if the war hadn’t changed the nature of our relationship. "No offense, Gale, but what goes on between me and Peeta is just that. Between ME and PEETA! It's nobody's business. And I'm sick of everyone sticking their noses in it."

 

"I'm not everyone. It's me, Catnip." He moved closer to me and said, "You used to tell me everything."

 

"Well, I'm not telling you this." My feelings for Peeta were my own. Not Gale's. Definitely not the Capitol's. Or the rest of Panem's. "Sorry, Gale. That topic isn't up for discussion."

 

"Fine." I knew he was angry with me, but I didn't really care. “So I guess he told you about our argument.”

 

“He didn’t have to,” I glared at Gale recalling the way he told Peeta to ‘enjoy me.’ “I heard most of it.”

 

“Oh,” he had the good graces to blush and look temporarily to the side. “Look, I didn’t mean…that thing I said to him. I’m sorry about that.”

 

Gale and Peeta had thrown around so many angry words I wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for. “Which ‘ _thing’_ are you saying you’re sorry about?”

 

“You know,” Gale’s eyes darted to the side, “that thing I said about you wishing it were me in bed with you at night instead of him.”

 

Obviously I had left before that was said, but I didn’t let on. I just gave Gale a quick nod like I was accepting his apology and wondered why Peeta hadn’t told me what my supposed best friend had said about me. I watched as a squirrel scurried up a tree and across a branch, stopping to nibble on something then surveying his surroundings, but my thoughts kept going back to Peeta. He had no idea that I heard what was said between him and Gale that day, and he could have used the things Gale said against him. He could have made certain that Gale remained out of my life by affirming that the man didn’t think very highly of the woman he claimed to love, but he didn’t. Instead Peeta encouraged me to put things right between Gale and I. Whether he needed me to come to the woods for his own peace of mind or mine, the fact was, he didn’t use Gale’s hurtful words to gain himself favor with me. Resting my elbows on my knees, I burrowed my fingertips into my eyes and came to some conclusions; _You’ve put Peeta through the ringer for years. He risked his life for you and you're going to lose him. You're going to lose your best friend_. Peeta, I realized, had taken on that role since the first arena. I may have pretended that we had a romance going on, but the real pretense was my denial. He had managed to sneak his way into my thoughts. Into my heart.

 

"It's getting late. We should go." We had spent the whole day in the woods with nothing to show for it, but maybe sore throats from all the yelling we did. Though I did figure some things out.

 

Gale’s snares were still set up in the woods; we hadn’t bothered checking them before we left for Victor’s Village, but the trip wasn't meant to be used for hunting. We both knew that. I didn't talk to him the entire way home. There was nothing left to be said. I may not have solved my issues with Gale, but I did have the answers Peeta needed.

 

When Gale and I reached the village I practically ran to my house, but Peeta was nowhere to be found and his paints were gone from the study. "He's not here." He knew I was coming back, but he didn't wait for my return. I sulked my way to the kitchen table and felt my entire body deflate into a chair as I wondered, _Is this what Peeta’s been going through? Is this how he's felt during the course of our entire relationship?_ Loneliness overwhelmed me as the tears began closing off my throat and stinging the back of my nose.

 

I wanted to be alone, but Gale was still there and once again he was butting his nose into my life. "So are you two really engaged or what?"

 

"I don't know what we are anymore." I turned my head and looked to the side vowing, _I am not talking to you about this, Gale._

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"We had a fight." So much for not talking about it to Gale.

 

"About what?"

 

"You!" I stood up and began ranting at him. "He's convinced that I need to face you. To make sure I still don't have feelings for you and now…now he's…" I buried my face in my hands and let the tears fall.

 

"Whoa. He's worried about me?" Gale walked to me and put his hand on my back. I shrugged it off immediately. "I'm not the one sleeping in your bed."

 

"Yes, but he thinks that…that…" I was blubbering like a schoolyard girl. It was ridiculous.

 

"What does he think?"

 

"That I might love you or something." I grabbed a napkin and blew my nose trying my best to take some deep breaths, but none of it helped.

 

"I hope you set him straight." Gale was right. I should've. I should've just told Peeta that I loved him, but no. I was just too afraid. "You did tell Peeta that you don't love me, right Katniss?" Gale walked closer to me and looked into my eyes. "Or do you?" I could see the hope on his face and I knew I was going to hurt someone today. This time when Gale placed his hands on my shoulders I didn’t slink away. There was only so much pain I could be responsible for and if one last touch would help him to accept what I had to say, then so be it.

 

It all seemed to happen at once. I lifted my face to tell Gale, that I didn't love him, but before I could get a word out his lips were covering mine and Peeta was entering my house. The entire scene played out in slow motion. I pushed Gale away from me, but he held onto my elbow as though he were staking his claim while Peeta stared accusingly at me.

 

“Peeta,” the gasp at the end of his name screamed guilt, but I hadn't kissed Gale back. I didn't want to. "It's not what you think;” I yanked my arm away from Gale’s clutches.

 

"Don't. Just don't, Katniss." Peeta was livid as he turned and stormed out the door, but I was on his heels in no time.

 

"Peeta! Wait!" When I caught up with him I tried to touch him but he pulled away. "Let me explain,” my plea stopped him in his tracks.

 

There was impatience in his voice and pain in his eyes when he asked, "What's there to explain?"

 

"It's not how it looked, Peeta." I was torn between defending myself and begging for forgiveness.

 

"It looked like he was kissing you." His voice was full of anger.

 

"But I didn't want him to."

 

"Sure, Katniss." He didn't believe me. Why should he? I'd spent the past few years bouncing between him and Gale like a rubber ball. I wouldn't believe me either. “Whatever you say.”

 

I had to convince him. "Can I at least explain?"

 

"No." He started for his house without giving me or my explanation a second thought.

 

"You can't just walk away!" I shouted while stamping a foot.

 

"Watch me."

 

“No!” Running in front of him I stood directly in his path. "This isn't fair. You're not being fair."

 

"Fair?" By the way his brows shot up and his jaw tensed, I had obviously struck a nerve. "You're going to stand there and say I haven't been fair?" He was yelling at me now. "I'm not the one sharing a bed with one guy and then making out with another!"

 

"I wasn't making out with him!" My voice and stance matched his.

 

"Could've fooled me!" He took me by the arms and forcefully moved me to the side when I refused to budge. After taking a few steps he spoke with his back to me, his tone no longer accusing or filled with anger, but doubt, "You know, Katniss. I really have no one to blame, but myself. I knew you two had something, but I thought…maybe. Just maybe…" He turned to me and said, "Not this time, Katniss. I won't be standing on the side lines waiting for you to choose one of us."

 

"There's nothing to choose, Peeta." I tried to keep my voice steady. "It chose me." I walked closer to him, hoping he wouldn't turn me away silently praying to myself, _Please let me hold your hand_. I threaded my trembling fingers through his lifeless ones. "It chose me, Peeta."

 

His jaw was stern and his eyes fierce. "What are you saying?"

 

"I'm saying there's nothing between me and Gale. There never really was." Why I couldn’t say what I was thinking, _Please forgive me._ _I love you,_ was a mystery to me.

 

Maybe if I had Peeta wouldn’t have stood there staring at me like I was a Capitol mutt. “I need to think, Katniss." He pulled his hand from my grip and went into his house. The heavy latched clicked, echoing through the cul de sac, screaming out Peeta’s wordless answer to my plea. The message was clear. Stay out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr I'm jamiesommers23 or you can follow joshiferrecs if you're a Joshifer fan.


	11. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Peeta shutting her out of his life, will Katniss seek comfort in the arms of Gale, or will she finally admit her feelings to Peeta? Read and find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Broadway Baby for your exceptional editing skills and for keeping me inspired. Thank you to all of you that read my stories, send me messages to keep me motivated (Peaches) and wait patiently for each update. We’re getting to the good part so I hope you’re all gonna stick around. ~J

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Eleven: Revelation**

**The Road to Recovery**

 

I stood staring at Peeta’s front door, willing myself to move, but, I couldn’t. My feet felt weighed down by a mixture of anger, guilt and remorse. My heavy footsteps made their way from his house to my own, and in the back of my mind I could hear myself saying to Caesar Flickerman, at the start of the Victory Tour, _“Thanks to the generosity of the Capitol, we’ve never been closer.”_

 

And Peeta’s facetious response, _“Twenty-five yards to be exact.”_

 

Twenty-five yards suddenly felt like twenty-five miles, and the closer I got to my own home, the worse I felt. I longed for the days when anger was my primary emotion; it was so much easier being pissed at someone, than blaming yourself for causing their pain.

 

Throwing the door to my house open, I saw that Gale was still sitting on my sofa. _Why didn't he leave? Why did he even come back to this district?_ In that moment I hated him and welcomed the rush of rage that ripped through me.

 

"Catnip, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

 

"No! You shouldn't have!" I grabbed a kitchen chair, picked it up, and slammed it back down. “Why would you do that, Gale?"

 

"Because…" He started walking closer to me and I was tempted to throw the chair at him. "I still love you." The chair stayed put.

 

I had no idea how to respond to him, but I knew I couldn’t deal with it right then. "Please leave."

 

He stood still for a few seconds, as if the decision was up to him, and then said, “Okay, Catnip. But if you want to talk…"

 

"Just go, Gale." I should've said more; should’ve told him that I didn't love him. That all of the kisses we shared in the past were nothing more than a young girl trying to figure out her feelings. Gale's kisses never stirred anything inside of me. Nothing. His touches never soothed me, or made me feel like…like…a woman. There I was; one man telling me he loved me, but acting like a complete jerk in the process. While the other man that had spent years…practically his whole life, loving me, and couldn’t even look at me. Who needed a country to destroy? Apparently I could cause a war within the confines of my own home.

 

My phone rang several times before I answered it with a forceful, "What?"

 

"Hello, to you, too, sweetheart."

 

I would have hung up on him, but I was still at the mercy of the Capitol and figured he had something important to tell me. "What do you want, Haymitch?"

 

"Just checking in. Since Gale’s been there, he’s been giving me a detailed report on your days…and nights. Not good.”

 

_I should've given him that black eye after all_ , I thought to myself. "Whatever. I don't really care." And I didn't. Who cared what happened to me? I was never leaving Twelve. I’d probably wind up like Haymitch. Going through life, getting drunk and brooding, with only a flock of geese to keep me company. “Let them do what they want.”

 

"Boy troubles, sweetheart?" The slew of words I called Haymitch would've made Effie Trinket cringe. Thankfully he didn't call back after I hung up on him.

 

_Just go over there, Katniss. Go over and talk to Peeta,_ I silently told myself, about a million times over, until I could no longer put off facing the nightmares on my own.

 

Since returning to Twelve, there was always a moment before I’d completely wake, when everything in life felt uncomplicated; when the world I lived in was not rebuilding from the ground up. When the district I was born and raised in was not a pile of rubble and the dead didn’t line the streets; their ashes blowing in the wind. In that moment I could feel Prim’s presence, sleeping peacefully in her bedroom, with her frilly, pink bedding cocooning her in warmth. In that moment I could feel Peeta’s arms around me. I could hear his voice telling me that everything was going to be all right and I could feel his lips pressing lightly against my head…cheeks…lips. In that brief moment of time he still loved me, the way he used to before being captured by the Capitol. Gale was still my best friend, and there was no animosity between him and Peeta. Gale didn’t resent Peeta. And Peeta wasn’t jealous of Gale. They accepted one another and I didn’t have to choose between either one of them. For those few short seconds my world was serene and tranquil. It was when I opened my eyes and saw the light of day streaming through my window that the truth would set in. The shock of life’s harsh realities would pour down on me, and the terror of being killed that used to consume me, turned to a fear of being alive.

 

I had lived with a constant ache in the pit of my stomach for so long that I had forgotten what being pain free felt like. It wasn’t until Peeta reentered my world and showed me that I was allowed to go on living, that the hurt dissipated and a new sensation took its place.

 

I hadn’t known true desire until Peeta showed it to me. I thought I knew what it was like to want for something, but I had cut so much out of my life; full meals…sleep...boys…sex…love… The list was endless. I dismissed things I considered frivolous. I actually thought the relationship developing between Peeta and I, was a luxury.

 

When I fully awoke, and the inevitable came crashing down upon me, I instantaneously came to the conclusion that what I shared with Peeta was far from an indulgence I was allowing myself to revel in. It was a necessity, and his absence brought the sorrow he had taken away back with a vengeance.

 

I gripped hold of my belly and rolled onto my side as the warmth of my tears pooled at the bridge of my nose, then dripped onto my pillow. Within seconds my river of tears flowed across the white linens of my bedding and the damp pillow case clung to the side of my cheek. Other than the three days before Gale’s arrival in Twelve it had been weeks since I awoke crying for the loss of my sister…my friend…my life. I was more than making up for that now.

 

The first person I cried for was Prim. There was so much life left ahead of her, but that was taken away. Had she survived, there was no doubt in my mind that she’d be in Four with my mother, learning the ins and outs of becoming a physician. Unlike me, my sister didn’t have a fear of relationships, so I knew she would have found someone to grow old with. She would have had a family and her children would have never questioned whether or not they were loved, because Prim would have showered them in it. I could almost hear her voice telling me to stop crying for her, that she was in a place where no one could ever harm her again and she finally had the ability to watch over everyone she loved.

 

The next person I cried for was Gale and the hatred I longed to feel towards him. In my head, I still blamed him for Prim’s death, but in my heart, I wanted to forgive him. He had been the one person I could always count on, but the more I looked back at our relationship the more I realized, we only fed each other’s hatred of circumstances that were out of our control. I remained uncertain of my feelings for Gale with the exception of one thing: I knew I wasn’t in love with him. The thought of his kissing me in my kitchen, turned my stomach. In comparison with Gale’s other kisses, this last one made me feel more than any other. I felt betrayed. Gale’s presumption, that I wanted him to kiss me, said loud and clear, that he may have heard what I said to him, but hadn’t listened to a word. I stood before him, crying over Peeta, yet he was deaf to that. It was as though he couldn’t believe I’d ever have feelings for someone other than him. I backhanded my eyes, was pissed as hell, and didn’t waste another tear on him.

 

The last person I cried for was me. I hated what I was turning into. What Peeta had turned me into. A couple of years ago, I remembered overhearing a conversation between two girls at school. One of them was crying to the other about a boy she had been going out with who had told her he loved her and then dumped her. When I walked away from them I actually laughed, thinking to myself, _there are worse things in the world. Quit whining_. People were starving to death, children were being reaped for the Capitol’s enjoyment, and she was acting as though her life had come to an end over a stupid guy. I would never have done something like that, yet I found myself doing the exact same thing. The only difference was that I didn’t have anyone to talk to about Peeta’s walking away from me…from us.

 

“Oh God,” I choked out and buried my face into my pillow. Peeta and I had been an “us.” We were a couple. Neither one of us ever expressed it out loud, but deep inside I think we both knew we went beyond the line of friendship a long time ago.

 

When I finally dragged myself from my bed and into my shower, my footsteps echoed through the bedroom and accentuated the emptiness of my home. I was alone once again and it truly bothered me. I hated that I needed Peeta, but I did, and whether he wanted to admit it or not right then, he needed me too. I contemplated going to see him before breakfast, but I was unsure of what to say to him. It wasn’t like I could tell him I loved him, because I still wasn’t certain myself. Or maybe I was and simply didn’t want to admit it out loud. Doing so would make me one of those girls I despised, but I had already proven I was exactly that.

 

I busied myself throughout the day with chores that didn’t need to be done; the menial tasks kept my mind off of what was missing in my life. I had developed some sort of mantra over the past twenty-four hours that I kept repeating to myself, “You brought this on yourself. You brought this on yourself.”

 

At one point resentment took over. I was furious with Peeta for making me feel so much then taking it all back. _What right did he have to change my life so drastically? To give me hope and then rip it away?_ I hated when I had internal arguments with myself; they didn’t show me in the best light, _Then again, what right did you have to do the same to him? Weren’t you the one that made him believe there was something between the two of you in the arena and then ran back to Gale the first chance you got?_ “No!” I screamed into thin air. “I was the one that did what I had to do to get us both out of the arena alive!”

 

I dropped a bowl I had taken out of the cupboard, onto the kitchen table, with a thud, and ran my hand over the surface of the marked wood. I could see myself leaning over an injured Gale. Placing a kiss on his lips while he lay with his back bleeding on the same table. Sitting in the cold while we were in District Two and accepting Gale’s kiss in order to fill the loneliness; to feel somewhat human again. It was Gale’s hand I had reached for when we were hiding out in Tigris’s basement, while Peeta watched from his spot cuffed to a pipe. I had kissed Peeta and begged him to stay with me only a day or two before, and then I switched my allegiance back to Gale without taking Peeta’s feelings into consideration.

 

Accepting that you were a terribly self-centered human being was not an easy thing to do. I had caused both of those men so much pain while toying with their hearts. Even when Gale was kissing me back then, I hadn’t thought about the long term effect. All I cared about was the here and now and how I could survive one more day. Gale’s words came back with full force, “Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can’t survive without.” At the time I couldn’t believe that my best friend thought so little of me. That Peeta, who had loved me unconditionally for so long, would even consider that to be true. But they were right. I was as selfish as Gale made me out to be. I don’t think he meant those words as an insult back then, but they hurt, and now…all this time later, the memory of them stung even more, because I finally accepted the truth about myself.

 

I stared at the clock wishing that time would move a little faster, but the never-ending day dragged on. Listened for the phone; willing it to ring, but no sound was heard. And stared at the door, praying for a knock that would never come. I looked out the window towards Peeta’s house and contemplated whether or not I should take a chance and go to him, but my fears of being rejected continued to win and I remained in the safety of my lonely home.

 

By this point I had put all thoughts of a new life with him to rest. I was certain that Peeta would've come to see me. He didn’t. _Was he questioning his decision to move back to District Twelve?_ This thought gave me pause. "No," I whispered to myself and begged no one in particular, for him to stay. _Please don't leave me here alone, Peeta. Please._ I had to see him. As I made my way to the front door I heard the knock and chanted quietly to myself, _Please be Peeta. Please be Peeta. Please be Peeta_. I wasn't disappointed.

 

“Hi,” I said nervously.

 

He stood outside holding a basket of something with a ribbon on it. "Hi. I brought you some cheese buns."

 

"Come inside."

 

"No. That's all right, Katniss." He handed me the basket of warm bread and began walking backwards towards his house. "I'm going to go home."

 

_NO!_ I wanted to scream it out loud; instead I stood frozen in place. "Please don't leave,” the sound of my begging stopped him from running away.

 

He looked at the ground and toed at something. After careful consideration he finally decided to take me up on my offer, “Okay.”

 

When he walked through my door I felt relief. I knew why he had stayed away. But I also knew I didn't want him to go. "Where have you been?" I asked as I went to the kitchen and busied myself with a pot of tea.

 

"Home. In town. Walking."

 

"Avoiding me?" I asked a little too sweetly.

 

"Yes."

 

I dropped the cups on the counter and walked towards him. "I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to stay away."

 

He shook his head and attempted to smile at me. It didn't quite gel. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It was my choice. I needed to figure some things out and having you around kind of…clouds my judgment."

 

"Oh." I inched towards him and asked, "Did you figure out what you needed to?"

 

"Sort of,” he shrugged.

 

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

 

"Not really," he said sheepishly.

 

"Okay." I was hurt, but what did I expect?

 

"It's not that I don't want to tell you, it's just that I don't know myself. I mean… I spent some time thinking about you and me. About the Games. Our time on the Victory Tour and… well…just us."

 

"Ah." He was back to analyzing our relationship again.

 

"The thing is; I'm not sure what was real and what wasn't."

 

"So ask me." I said eagerly. "Ask me anything you want and I'll tell you if it happened or not."

 

"That's not what I mean, Katniss."

 

I didn't get it. I didn't understand what he was talking about. "Well if you need to know what's real… I can help with that."

 

"No Katniss!" He looked at me angrily. "You can't. You don't even know yourself. Do you?"

 

"Of course I do." My memory wasn't hijacked.

 

The quizzical expression on his face took me aback for a moment and then he asked me, "Okay. Was it _all_ a lie? In the cave? On the train? That night on the beach? Was all of it a lie?"

 

It wasn't the kind of real or not real I was expecting. "You mean did the Capitol implant those memories?" I knew that's not what he meant.

 

"Don't play coy, Katniss."

 

I didn't have an answer for him. Probably because I didn't know the answer. "You were right,” I said quietly. “I don't know." The one thing I did know was that I was going to have to address this topic once and for all or risk losing him.

 

"I'm going to pass on the tea." He walked to my door and as he let himself out, he said, "See you around,” like he was already writing me off.

 

The water was boiling. The tea was ready to be steeped. The cheese buns were still warm and I was somewhere in a cave in the middle of the arena.

 

My mind had gone back to the moment of our first real kiss. The one where I thought about shutting the world out and allowing only Peeta in. That was as real as anything to me. There were other moments in the cave I always assumed were for the sake of the camera, but since I was dissecting those events, there were a lot of things that didn’t seem staged at all. Sure some of it was, like coaxing Peeta to eat the broth with kisses, and saying to him, “ _You don’t have much competition anywhere_ ,” but there were also genuine moments. The feeling of Peeta's fingers as he brushed the hair away from my eyes. How my whole body seemed to relax when he did that and I fell asleep.

 

Sleep. That was another thing. I began sleeping in his arms while in the cave and there was nothing false about the security I felt within them, then or now.

 

Then there was the memory from our first day of school: my red dress, my hair being in two braids, the Valley Song. He remembered all of those things about me, and since I was trying to be honest, I felt happy when he told me those things. As happy as I could be considering our circumstances.

 

He made me smile. Gale used to say I only smiled when I was in the woods, but that wasn’t true. Peeta made me smile all the time. And in the middle of the Games too. Heck, he made me laugh in the middle of the Games. What would it have taken from anyone else, even Gale, to bring that out in me? I knew the answer. No one could've brought that out except Peeta.

 

The guilt he felt over his kills in the arena. I watched him during the recaps and he just kept saying he was sorry over and over again as he slit the girl from Eight’s throat. His reaction when he saw her image on television during the Reaping Day Tribute. And Foxface. That one really bothered him. He hadn't meant to kill her, but his ignorance did it anyway. Though I'd never tell him, I was relieved she died the way she did, because I didn’t think I could kill her. Not after Rue died in my arms.

 

My thoughts traveled back to the feast. Why did I risk my life for his medicine? I barely knew him. Yes; he would've done it for me. Sure; the residents of Twelve would expect nothing less. But that didn't answer the question as to my motivation. Why did I go? Because I couldn't let Peeta die out there. If he had, I'd have died too. I would've let Cato kill me, or Foxface. Probably Foxface since the thought of Cato winning was completely revolting at the time.

 

I didn’t have to delve into memories of the Victory Tour or the Quell, I had already gotten the answers Peeta and I needed. When all was said and done, it came down to one simple thing: I was in love with Peeta Mellark. Now all I had to do was get over my fear of actually saying it out loud. I sighed while thinking, _Easier said than done_.

 

I pulled out the book that Peeta and I had been working on. Flipping through the pages, I found the picture of Prim being kissed by her goat, Lady. It was the very first time I didn’t tear up at the sight of her image. I traced my finger around her smiling face and hoped she could hear my thoughts, _I fell in love, Prim. I’m in love with, the boy with the bread._ I blew out a breath and whispered to her, “Wish me luck,” then went to Peeta’s.

 

The scent of yeast, wafted from his house regardless of the closed door. I knocked then entered when I heard him call out, "Come in." He obviously wasn’t expecting it to be me. "Katniss!" He dropped the pan he had in his hand and stood staring at me. "What are you doing here?"

 

"You told me to come in."

 

"I thought you were Sae." He picked up the empty loaf pan, and placed it in the sink. "She was coming by to get some bread."

 

We both stood there staring. I had no clue what was going on in his head, and was grateful he didn’t know what was going through mine.

 

"Well, it's me,” I said. “Hope that’s not a problem.”

 

He was about to say something, but Greasy Sae’s arrival put a damper on our conversation. "It's still pretty hot,” he said to her. “I just took it out of the oven." He turned towards the sink and began washing the used pans while talking freely with Sae.

 

I wanted her to leave. _Peeta, I want to talk to you. I want to tell you what I've been thinking about. I want to tell you that I can answer your questions now_ , I thought to myself.

 

I waited in silence while Sae wrapped up the bread in cheesecloth, and they continued their conversation about sourdough starter, whatever that was. When Sae finally left, I expected him to talk to me, but he continued splashing around in the sink washing bowls…spoons…pans… It was never-ending.

 

_Turn around! Talk to me!_ I sent him a mental message which he obviously didn’t receive so I tried out my actual voice, “Peeta?”

 

"Go home, Katniss,” his distant tone sent a chill down my spine. “I'll come by in a little while."

 

When I entered my house I walked towards the kitchen and looked at the basket of buns he made me. _One for every kiss,_ I thought while counting how many there were. Then I took notice of the loaf of bread he made for me. Was it just yesterday morning I noticed it on my counter? I took a small piece of it and placed it in my mouth. The flavor of cinnamon, raisins and nuts seeped through me and brought me back in time. I was eleven again. Making my mother and sister sit down at the table and slicing through a partially burnt loaf of bread.

 

"You don't like it." Peeta said from the entry way; closing the door behind him.

 

"No. That's not it." Tears began to form in the back of my nose and I did my best not to let them win. I was so sick of crying. "Peeta," I asked. "Why did you make this bread?"

 

"I don't know. I just started mixing up ingredients and that’s what came out."

 

"Oh." I could barely get the word out. The idea that he couldn’t remember the importance of this particular type of bread drained the blood from my heart.

 

"Katniss?" I could feel his stare piercing like an arrow through my back. "Katniss?" I couldn’t look at him yet. I knew if I did the tears would follow and really…I was all cried out. "Are you okay?"

 

When I finally did look at him, the memory spilled from within, "This is the bread you burnt for me Peeta. This is the bread you threw to me in the rain. The bread that saved my life."

 

The look on his face told me that he hadn't forgotten. "Is it?" He knew exactly what he was doing when he was mixing those ingredients.

 

"You know it is Peeta!" I screamed at him, not meaning to. "Why did you make this?"

 

"I told you. I just started to mix up some ingredients and…"

 

"So you didn't mean to make _this_ bread? You didn't mean to bring up thoughts of you saving my life?"

 

"No. I did."

 

I was in shock that he actually admitted it. "Why?"

 

"To help you remember."

 

"What do I need help remembering? I'm not the one that had his memory altered!" I yelled at him; regretting it the moment it left my lips.

 

"No, that was me. Although sometimes I think it _was_ you,” he said with enough accusation in his voice to get my blood boiling. "Sometimes I think you've forgotten that I took a beating for you when I didn't even know you."

 

"I know you did!" I hollered.

 

"Do you?" He hollered back. "Do you know? Because you sure don't act like it! You don't act like someone that actually cares about what I did or how old I was when I did it!" His breathing was labored as he continued yelling, "I knew, the moment I heard my name called in the reaping, I knew I was going to die. Not because I couldn't kill someone else or because I couldn't fight to the death! Because between you and me, you were the one I had to save! Your life has always been more important than my own! So important, I was actually going to volunteer if my name hadn't been called!" He picked up the remainder of the bread and slammed in on the counter. "I made this bread to remind you that it's always been real for me, Katniss. I never once pretended to love you. I didn't do it for sponsors, or the watching viewers. I never acted out of necessity. I acted out of love. I always have and I always will." His voice got slightly softer, but not by much, “I just needed you to know that."

 

I stood there like a deer blinded in the headlights, mumbling, "I do know that."

 

"But you still have no clue do you? No clue how much of…" his motioned between him and me _, "this_ is real?"

 

"That's not true." I said in my defense. "You’re my friend, Peeta. Someone I can rely upon. I've always known that. Even when I questioned it, deep inside, I knew that you were being kind t…”

 

"No. I wasn't being kind. I loved you. I love you."

 

As much as I wanted to say it back the words wouldn’t come out. It was like the buildings around town. They were all brand new, but I still didn’t believe just anyone could walk into a shop and buy food or clothes or thread or…anything, without giving it a second thought. I simply couldn’t accept that we lived in that kind of a world; a world in which the Mockingjay could love someone without fatal consequences.

 

"Well," he looked at me as though I had broken his heart on purpose, and said snidely, “at least, now I know how you really feel.”

 

"No. You don't know. You don't know a damn thing." The tears were gone and in their place was fury. “Ask me! Ask me what you want _really_ want to know about! Or should I say, _who_?!" He didn't say a word. "Fine! Let me answer you anyway! There is nothing…NOTHING between me and Gale. And I hate that you made me go to the woods with him! I hate that you put me in that position!” I pointed in the direction of Gale’s house. “Do you think he would've kissed me if I had just continued ignoring him? Well I can tell you, he wouldn't have. He would've just kept thinking that I hated him. Which is highly probable. And you… _you_ told me you'd never leave me. You told me you'd stay with me always. Always, Peeta! But what did you do? You ran away and locked me out of your house. How do you think that made me feel? I spent the whole day fighting with Gale. And let's get one thing straight, I did that for you. For you!" I bore my pointing finger into his chest. "I was crying about you. YOU! To _him_. Telling him that I was afraid I'd lost you and then you walk into my house, see him practically mauling me, and instead of defending me or giving me a chance, you accuse me of, what was that again!?” I was pacing like a crazed woman. “Sleeping with one man and making out with another!" I picked up the loaf of bread and heaved it at him. "Get out of my house! Get out!"

 

His arms were around me in an instant while his mouth violently crashed against mine. I started to pound on his shoulder blades with my fists. I didn't want him to kiss me. I didn't want his arms around me, but my struggle only lasted a second or two. Hands that tried to push him away were now clinging to him. All of the fight had been sucked out of me with the flavor of his cinnamon and clove kiss.

 

"Peeta. I'm sorry." I spoke into his mouth.

 

"I'm sorry, Katniss." He pulled away just long enough to say, "I was selfish."

 

"No. No you weren't. I was,” I insisted between our open mouths.

 

We kept apologizing between frenzied lips, tongues, hands... Each one of us listing off our faults; hoping the other could accept them.

 

I needed to stop for a moment and catch my breath, but that didn’t keep Peeta from trailing his mouth from one of my ears to the other. My fingers threaded through his hair and I pulled him closer. "Peeta, please forgive me."

 

When he lifted his eyes to mine, they smiled. "Can we start over, Katniss? Can we just start over? From right here. Right now."

 

I was nodding frantically. "Yes. Yes. Let's start again. No lies this time."

 

"No secrets," he added.

 

"I'd like that,” I said on a bit of a hitched breath.

 

"We can take it as slow as you like,” his large palms kept brushing the hair away from the sides of my face. “We could spend time together; get to know one another again."

 

"Would you do that?” I asked. “Take it slow with me, Peeta?"

 

"Why wouldn't I?"

 

"You said you weren't going to wait for me to choose," I choked the words out.

 

His lips brushed lightly against mine, "And you said there was no choice to be made."

 

"There isn't,” I assured him. The words, I love you were stuck in my throat, but that didn’t stop me from conveying how I felt. “I want to be with you, Peeta. Only you."

 

With his head dropped back, Peeta spoke towards the ceiling, "It’s about time."

* * *

 

 

**From the world of Road to Recovery**  
  
 **Told from Peeta's POV**  
  
 **~If Only I Could Reach Her~**  
  
 **Can be found on my story story page**  
  
 _Follow me on Tumblr. I'm jamiesommers23 and if you're looking for some Joshifer (Josh Hutcherson/Jennifer Lawrence) Fanfiction follow joshiferrecs_


	12. Resolutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss and Peeta are taking some important first steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that have read this story in the past, I’m certain you’ll notice the changes in this chapter. For those that have never read it, I do hope you enjoy it. Only a few more chapters left of this story before its conclusion. I have based this on the fabulous books (thanks Suzanne), the incredible movies and my wild imagination. A big thank you to my friends and editors, Broadway Baby and Abby. Thank you to foxyliciouss (on tumblr) for making my absolutely gorgeous new story banner which can be seen on my tumblr page (jamiesommers23).  
> The song featured in this chapter is, Talking to the Moon, by Bruno Mars.
> 
> Happy Reading.

**The Road to Recovery**   
**By: Jamie Sommers**   
**Chapter Twelve: Resolutions**

**Happy Reading.**

**The Road to Recovery**

 

Walking to the bedroom, hand in hand, felt like the start of something new for Peeta and me. My concerns about my feelings for him were no longer at the forefront of my mind. We had decided to take our relationship slowly from this point on, and that was a big relief to me. I guess I thought it had to be all or nothing with Peeta. I either had to commit to loving him for the rest of my life – an emotion I wasn’t very good at expressing – or I’d have to say goodbye to him. The idea that we could take time to learn all the little, intimate details about one another had never crossed my mind. Peeta had been certain of his feelings for me lately, and I didn’t think he’d accept anything less from me. Now that I knew starting over was an option, saying the words, I love you, out loud didn’t make me feel like I was being pressured into a life altering commitment. If and when I told him I loved him, it would be because I wanted to, not because I had to say it in order to keep him in my life.

I glanced at Peeta as he laid his shirt over a chair and I swear I could feel my heart smiling in anticipation of what was to come.

“What are you staring at?” He asked me; pulling me from my trance.

“I’m just thankful you’re here with me,” I told him, and in that moment, I made the decision to stop hiding my feelings from him. If I was worried, I’d tell him. If I was scared, I’d tell him, and if I was happy, I’d tell him that too.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” he smiled sweetly before pulling his shoes and socks off.

What a remarkable feeling it was to crawl into bed with him that night. To reach out and feel him reaching back stirred a mixture of emotions within me, but it was the stabbing pain of regret in my chest that really got to me. I knew I had missed having him next to me at night, but the emptiness I felt while we were apart was so overwhelming that the moment he was in my arms, and there were no questions or bitterness between us, his absence hit me full force. “I didn’t realize how much I missed you until this very second,” my words came out in a strangled whisper against his cheek.

Peeta’s arms doubled around my back as he squeezed me tighter, “I know what you mean.”

The house was dark and quiet with the exception of the sound of our breathing and the streams of moonlight causing shadows to dance through our bedroom. The cool air blowing through the window accentuated the warmth our bodies created beneath the blankets. I brushed my fingertips along the sides of Peeta’s face; pulling far enough away to look into his eyes, and found him staring at me so ardently, I gulped. The jolt of desire that shot through me went clear to my toes.

The corner of Peeta’s mouth curled humorously and he placed a very soft peck against my lips. From the look in his eyes I was sure he was going to kiss me much more thoroughly than that, but he didn’t. He let out a soft sigh, put a little distance between us, and said, “Okay. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Huh?” I hadn’t expected him to say that.

“We’re getting to know one another, remember? So tell me something I don’t know about you.” Resting his forehead against mine, he quietly said, “I want to know you.” He paused before adding, “All of you.”

“You know mostly everything there is to know, Peeta.” There really wasn’t all that much to me.

“That’s not true and we both know it,” he said with a teasing smirk.

I took a moment to think about the things I had done in my life – there were plenty of things I wasn’t proud of – and found that I really didn’t want Peeta to see me for the selfish person I was, as he did when we were in Thirteen. “I…umm—” I turned to the side, because facing him actually hurt. I couldn’t even keep my promise to myself and tell him the truth about the way I was feeling.

“Hey,” Peeta’s bent knuckle beneath my chin, guided my eyes back to his. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I answered without even having to think about it.

“Then trust me with your past, Katniss.” He stroked my back and caressed my cheeks with his gaze. “Please,” he quietly begged, and I could no longer refuse him.

“I didn’t like who I became after my father died…” I confided a few things to him that didn’t show me in the best light. I told him how difficult my life was after that fateful day when the mine blew – which he knew better than anyone outside of my immediate family – but there were plenty of things he didn’t know. I told him how I had started to grow hard inside, how angry I had been with my mother, how I resented the people from the Capitol because of where they lived, and stopped doing the one thing I loved to do. “There simply wasn’t anything to sing about anymore,” I rested my hand against his heart and my head in the crook of his arm. “No matter how many smiles I plastered on my face for Prim’s benefit, deep inside, I was so bitter towards life…towards the Capitol.” I let out a sigh. “I blamed them for everything wrong with my life, but it wasn’t all their fault. I mean, look at you, Peeta. Your life was just as hard as mine.” I voice got softer, “In some ways it was even harder,” I glanced up at him, expecting to see some sort of reaction at my comment in regards to his abusive childhood, but there was none, so I continued. “Yet, you greeted each day with a smile on your face. You were kind to people.” I thought about the crowd that always surrounded him in the hallways at school. “Know what I remember the most about you growing up?”

“I didn’t think you really noticed me all that much.”

“No. I did.”

I could tell he was surprised at my comment. “Tell me what you noticed.”

“I noticed the way people always laughed when they talked to you.” I drew a pattern on his chest with my finger and admitted, “I didn’t even talk to the only girl in school that considered me her friend – not until after the first Games anyway.” I hung my head in shame; wishing I could go back in time and take full advantage of my friendship with Madge.

With regret filling me up, the silence between us grew thick, until Peeta broke it. “That’s one of the things I always found intriguing about you,” he grinned crookedly at me. “All the girls around me would be talking about the guys they were interested in or their hair…who was pretty…who wore what…” he gave his head a shake. “But not you. You and Madge used to sit there in complete silence, and it looked so peaceful…comfortable. I used to wonder if you two would have let me join you there.” He blew out a small breath and said wistfully, “To be able to spend a few minutes in complete silence, just enjoying the people in your company…” his hand grazed over my hip and up my side till he rested it on my waist. “God, how I longed for that back then.”

“With your penchant for talking, Peeta, I’m not sure our table would have been all that quiet.” He joined me in a chuckle. “All your friends probably would have followed you over to our table and started talking about things I’d have never understood or wanted to for that matter.”

“You mean you wouldn’t enjoy talking about the ribbons you were making for your hair or the boys you were dating?” We both laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“I sincerely doubt it, since I’ve never been on a date.”

The humor in Peeta’s eyes faded away when he asked, “You seriously never dated anyone? At all?”

“Nope,” I shook my head.

“I won’t get mad if you tell me you did, you know?”

“I know,” I snuggled into his arms and rested the flat of my hand on his beating heart. “But there’s nothing to tell.” I chuckled to myself and said, “The closest thing I’ve had to a date was our picnic in the cave and our day on the roof of the Tribute Center.”

I could hear Peeta’s, “Hmmm,” and felt him press a kiss against the top of my head. He started stroking his hand up and down my spine; lulling me into a state of deep relaxation.

Our conversation tonight was unexpectedly pleasant. Sure, I opened up to him about things I didn’t particularly like about myself, but afterward I felt a sense of relief. It felt good getting some of that off of my chest and letting Peeta into a part of my life I had so closely guarded. As I dozed off, the sense of fulfillment I felt seeped into my sleep, and I had a sweet dream about my sister and Rue playing with Lady in the meadow by our old house in the Seam.

I woke up in the morning and my first thought was, _I smell bacon. He's making me bacon_. I smiled behind closed eyes, felt Buttercup brush against my foot, and sat up to pet the wretched thing. The cat and I still had a hate-hate relationship, but we understood one another. Buttercup quickly got sick of my petting him so he jumped off of the bed and hissed at me when he landed. Naturally, I hissed back. "You're forgetting that I can still drown you." By now, I was convinced that the cat really did have nine lives and he knew it. As he slunk out of the room; making sure to give me one last glare, I chuckled to myself and thought, _I have no doubt that if I were a cat, I'd be you, Buttercup._

"What're you laughing at?" Peeta walked into my room with a tray in his hands.

“Buttercup,” I answered while my mouth watered from the mere scent of food on his tray. On it was bacon, eggs, rolls, juice and, "Oh my God! Where did you get hot chocolate from?"

"I'll never tell." He placed the tray over my lap and sat on the opposite side of it. "Are you sure you don't mind that I leave you here alone today?" Peeta had some business to take care of with the bakery and needed to spend some time in town. "I'd ask you to come with me, but I'm going to be pretty busy." He ripped off a piece of the roll and dunked it into his hot chocolate.

"Peeta, I'm not going to curl up in some closet because you're not in the same room with me." I took a mouthful of eggs and bit into the bacon. "Mmmm."

"Like it?"

"Mmmm hmmm." My mouth was full.

"I think I'm getting better at this cooking business. Guess it didn't hurt spending my life around an oven."

I swallowed and said, "You're a much better cook than I could ever be."

"You're just saying that so you won't have to cook."

"You know me too well," I said drolly.

Peeta finished off his roll and hot chocolate then gave me a kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you later." Before he left the room he turned and asked, "Katniss? Would you go out on a date with me tonight?"

I raised my eyebrows and said, "Peeta, you just woke up in my bed. I think we're past the dating thing, don't you?" I knew we were going slowly, but that was more like moving backwards.

"Humor me."

I could see by the look on his face this meant a lot to him, and honestly, the idea of going on a real date was…exciting. "In that case. Yes. I'd love to go on a date with you tonight."

His entire face lit up when he asked, "Do you still have any of Cinna's clothes left?"

"I have almost everything." The houses in Victor's Village were kept in pristine order during the war, which I found to be odd, but I was grateful that Cinna's beautiful designs still lived on in my closet. "You always look special when you wear one of his dresses. I'll pick you up at 5:00." He turned and left.

Though he hadn’t come right out and said it, it was obvious that Peeta wanted me to wear one of Cinna's designs on our date tonight, and I knew exactly which one I would wear. I finished my breakfast, with Buttercup's help. Damn cat wouldn't leave me alone until I fed him some bacon. Brought my tray downstairs and washed the plates that were on it. Peeta had cleaned up the rest of the breakfast dishes.

It was just past ten in the morning and I really didn’t have anything to do with my day until it was time to get ready for my date. My eyes began to dart from side to side as the thought struck me. _I have no clue **how** to get ready for a date._ Thankfully I knew a few people that were experts at that sort of thing.

I searched the drawer next to the telephone and found what I had been looking for then made the call and hoped I didn’t wake her up.

"Hellooooh," a sing song voice answered.

"Hello, Octavia. It's Katniss." Her high pitched squeal practically burst my ear drum. "How are you?"

"Oh, Katniss I'm doing quite well. Quite well. And you? How are you doing? I was so worried when Haymitch informed us that you weren't coming to the Capitol with him. I thought maybe you were still…ill, but you sound much better than the last time I spoke with you. You are better, aren’t you?"

"Yes. I'm actually doing very well.”

“Then why on earth wouldn’t you come to the Capitol to get away?” She asked as though my banishment to Twelve was an actual punishment for me. If she only knew that’s how I felt about going to the Capitol.

“I didn't want to leave Peeta, and he’s not up to traveling yet." _Plus the people that sentenced me are afraid that we’ll start another uprising if we’re seen together outside of Twelve_ , I thought, but didn’t say.

She began to sigh and talk about how sweet we were together. That she was certain we would last a lifetime, and she wished she could find someone like him.

When she was all gushed out I got down to business. "Octavia, I wanted to tell you how thankful I was for all of your help during both Games and…well…for everything.”

"It was my honor, Katniss."

“I was wondering if you could help me one more time. As you know, I'm not very good at this whole… _pretty_ thing."

"Katniss, you're beautiful just the way you are." Of all my pets, she was my favorite. "A little hairy, but beautiful." Definitely my favorite.

"Thank you. You see…I have a date tonight and…" I spent about an hour on the phone writing down her instructions. My team had left a slew of makeup, hair tools, tweezers, and razors in the hopes that I would maintain the look they created for me. Today was the first time I even considered touching all that crap.

I thought I could handle it until Octavia said, "But, Katniss. How will you get it all done in time? It took three of us plus Cinna to prep you.”

I had no idea how I was going to get it all done in less than _six hours_ considering it took four people an entire day to get me ready, but I was up to the challenge. At least I thought I was. “I’ll figure it out, Octavia.” We took a few minutes to say our goodbyes, and I immediately got to work.

I found the boxes…and boxes of equipment my team had left – seven in all – in my walk-in closet. Other than a layer of dust, they’re in pristine condition. I carried them, somewhat reluctantly, into my room, and began digging through them. I had no clue where to start. Thank goodness I had written down everything Octavia had told me.

First I was to rid myself of my "hairiness." Tweezing my eyebrows was not something I was fond of. It was painful at first, but after the first minute or two, my eyelids were numb from the pain so I barely felt a thing. I wasn't about to rip the hair out of my legs, so I found a razor and shaved them. There were a few cuts…maybe six…alright ten, but Octavia told me about some little stick that stopped the bleeding which worked well. I didn’t really see the difference between my hairless legs or my fuzzy ones, but Octavia swore that Peeta would notice. I didn’t think so, but I was pretty sure that she’d been on more dates than me. Of course her idea of a date was probably a lot different than what we’d do here in Twelve.

I showered and used the scented soaps and lotions that I found – which brought on a sneezing fit. I read all of the bottles of hair products and followed Octavia's instructions to the tee, but I was having some difficulty with the ring of braids I was supposed to put in my hair. “Forget it,” I grunted out my frustration. I had no clue how to work the God forsaken curling stick thing. I was supposed to braid the front of my hair into a crown on top of my head and I still had to figure out how to put all of the goop on my face.

I stared at the various tubs and tubes of makeup. “There’s a reason I had a prep team!” I yelled at my reflection in the mirror and dropped my head onto the vanity I was sitting at. There was no way on earth I could do this without help.

I thought of the women I knew in District Twelve and wondered if they’d be of any help to me, but the idea of Greasy Sae putting on makeup was laughable and asking Gale’s mother to help get me ready for a date with Peeta seemed a bit callous.

For the first time in my life I actually wished my mother was around to teach me how to do all of this girly crap. A wave of sadness crept over me when I realized how much I had actually missed out on as a young girl.

I never had those moments with my mom like Prim did. She didn’t teach me how to put my hair in delicate braids like she did with Prim, and though my mother didn’t wear makeup very often – it was a luxury we couldn’t afford – I knew from the few photos of her when she lived in Town, that she had experience in applying it. _She probably would have taught that to Prim too_ , I thought. I missed my sister in that moment, and surprisingly, I really missed my mother as well. I wished she would have been here with me to experience this first. I wish they both were. Though Peeta and I were long past the dating stage of our relationship, this was still my first real date, and it would have been nice to have my mother and sister around for it. Instead I was sitting in my room, alone, with a hot metal stick burning the wood on my vanity, and salty tears burning the back of my nose.

I longed to talk to Prim again…to hear her voice just one more time. It would never happen, but there was someone I could talk to. Someone that would understand what I was feeling. I reached for the phone and took a chance. When my mom answered I thought I was going to cry on the spot. Not only because I missed her, but because I really wanted to share this rite of passage with her, but she lived eight districts away. “Hey mom,” I said brokenly.

“Katniss, are you okay? You sound upset,” she said to me.

“I’m okay. I just…I really wish you were here right now.”

“You do?” My mom sounded shocked, but who could blame her? I never really made my mother feel needed.

I explained what I was feeling… doing, and how terrible I was at it. We talked about the little things we missed about Prim, and then I apologized to my mother, “I spent a long time talking at you, not to you, and I’m really sorry about that.”

“I could have done better too, Katniss. I used your sister as a buffer between us, and I should never have done that. I was ashamed of what I did after your father died, and how I depended on you,” she paused. “You know… I think your sister would be very proud of us right now and how far we’ve come.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I could hear my mother blow out a sigh of relief. Then she said, “Tell me more about this date,” in a bright voice that helped to alleviate the pain we were both feeling.

I told her that I was actually excited about the idea of going on a real date with Peeta, but very nervous. Sure he and I have gone to events all over Panem together, but there was something different about tonight. I knew it the moment Peeta asked me out. “I have no idea why I’m doing this,” I picked up a long pink tube of lipstick and let it drop. “Peeta won’t care one way or the other.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think he’d appreciate the extra bit of effort you put into getting ready for him this evening.”

“Not if I look like Effie Trinket on a bad day.” My mom laughed, but I couldn’t find it in me.

“Why don’t we switch this to a video call?” My mother suggested. “Then I can walk you through all of this.”

It took us a few minutes to figure out how to switch from voice to video, and by the time we did, we were both laughing at our ineptitude.

“Well,” she smiled softly at me from the projected screen that came from the back of my phone, “there you are. It’s so good to see you, Katniss.”

“It’s good to see you too.” I took in the sight of my mother and noticed that the sparkle in her eyes that had gone missing when my father died, was twinkling back at me. “You look happy, mom.”

“I’m looking at my daughter who’s getting ready for her very first date. Of course I’m happy.” I could feel myself blushing and knew this was the bond between mother and daughter that we had been missing, and it felt pretty amazing. “Now what do you say we get you ready for your big night?”

She talked me through the basics. I knew how to braid my hair, but I had never mastered the fancy designs she and Prim were so good at, so we kept it simple. Two thin braids along the sides of my head that joined in the back where I would allow the rest of my hair to flow free. After a few burns, and several swear words, I had finally gotten the hang of the curling stick…rod…iron and filled my mother in on what was happening between me and Peeta.

It didn’t come as a surprise to her that Gale kissed me in my kitchen or that he still had feelings for me. “The thing you need to remember is that you and Gale never really reached that level of intimacy that you and Peeta have achieved,” I wondered what she meant when she said that. Did she think there was more…physically between me and Peeta, like the rest of the world did? “You and Gale have been close for as long as I can remember, and I know you loved him, but any fool could see that it wasn’t the same kind of love you had for Peeta.”

“How did you know it was different when I didn’t even know it myself?” I wasn’t being accusatory, but I was very curious how she could see it and I couldn’t.

“Katniss, you and Peeta share a very special connection that only comes with a once in a lifetime kind of love.” She leaned a little closer to the monitor and reminded me, “Take your hair out of the curling iron before you singe it.” Then continued explaining what she saw, “I knew Peeta had strong feelings for you, that was obvious during your first Games, but it wasn’t until that day you disappeared into the woods and the Peacekeepers were waiting at home for you that I knew it wasn’t some boyhood infatuation. He sat there with Haymitch playing chess for hours. Every now and then he’d make an excuse to come into the kitchen where Prim and I were, and he’d give us a small smile…a light squeeze. Like he wanted to let us know everything would be okay. Not once did he let his guard down.”

“He and Haymitch were always better at acting than I was,” I said absently.

“Oh no,” my mother let out a little burst of air. “All of us, including Haymitch, showed signs of concern as the night went on, but not Peeta. It made me think of your father and how he always kept up a brave face even when things were at their bleakest. Your hair, Katniss,” she reminded me again.

“Oh…oh yeah.” Another curl sprang free and I continued the process.

“After Peeta brought you up to bed that night, he asked me if he could stay with you for a little while.” My mother’s eyes glassed up. “I said it would be fine, and he assured me he would leave within the hour and lock up behind him.”

I had no idea Peeta had stayed with me _after_ I had fallen asleep. It never dawned on me that he would.

“I wanted to make sure I had put everything back in the medicine cupboard,” my mother continued, “and as I made my way up to bed, I could hear him sniffling. I only peeked for a moment, but when I did, I saw him clutching you to his chest. He kept saying, ‘Always,’ and kissing the top of your hair.” Her hand fisted against her chest as though she were trying to hold the pieces of her heart together. “I went to bed when his sniffles turned to weeping, and I knew…this wasn’t a crush, and it most certainly wasn’t some infatuation that he’d grow out of. He was deeply in love with you and he was terrified that he had lost you.”

I dropped the curling rod onto the vanity with a thud and sucked in a breath. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Most men don’t really want the women they love to know when they break down, Katniss,” she said. “Do you know how many times I heard you doing the same when we were in Thirteen?”

“A lot I imagine,” I spoke quietly.

“It wasn’t just the Games that bonded you and Peeta together. It was your hearts. Going on without the other wasn’t impossible, but it was unbearable for both of you.” My mother tucked a hair behind her ear. “That’s how I feel without your father. Maybe that’s why it was easier for me to see the signs than it was for you. I’ve experienced that type of love before, Katniss. I’m just glad you’re finally seeing it for yourself.”

“Me too.” My throat started thickening up which said I was about to cry, and tried to hold it back.

“Will you look at us acting so glum,” my mother said with forced spirit. “You’ve got a date in a little while, and we still need to get some makeup on you.”

I finished curling my hair, and then my mother talked me through applying a light dusting of makeup. The fact that I was doing this, putting all of this goop on my face, for Peeta, was not lost on me. I hated this crap, but I wanted tonight to be special so I tried not to blink too rapidly when I brought a mascara wand close to my eye, and I tried not to sneeze when I applied a gold shimmering powder on the apples of my cheeks. In the end I was pleased with what my mother and I had accomplished, but even more thrilled with this new start to our relationship.

“That was one of my favorite dresses from the tour,” my mom said.

I glanced down the orange dress patterned with autumn colored leaves. “This is Peeta’s favorite color,” but that wasn’t the only reason I chose that particular dress. The last time I wore it a man from District Eleven was executed before my eyes. For some reason, I thought, by wearing this dress tonight, not only would Peeta like it, but I’d be able to associate it with a happy memory. Cinna deserved at least that much.

“You look beautiful, Katniss,” my mother dabbed at the corner of her eyes.

“Don’t cry,” I ordered her playfully. “I just spent hours doing this to my face and if I cry and have to do it again, I’ll never forgive you.”

We promised to talk again in the next few days, and praised the technology that allowed us to see one another after all this time. We shared one last laugh that ended on a sigh, and finally said our goodbyes. Life was moving on. Not only for me and Peeta, but for my mother and I as well. It felt good to feel like a daughter instead of a caregiver.

I jumped a bit when I heard Peeta's knock. I was in my own world, but now it was time for my date. I couldn't wait to tell Peeta about my talk with my mother, but I wasn’t going to tell him what she had seen and heard the night he promised to always stay with me.

As I walked to the door I felt my heart racing. I was nervous, excited, anxious… I took a deep breath and opened my door only it wasn't Peeta standing on the other side of it, but the Capitol attendant that had made me warm milk on the train so long ago. I gave him a quizzical look and said, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, Miss Everdeen. We're here to pick you up on behalf of Mr. Mellark."

"What?" My first thought was that Peeta had been hurt. "What happened to Peeta?"

"Oh, nothing Miss Everdeen. He just asked us to escort you to your date." He motioned to a man standing by a very nice car.

These were Capitol people. Why would Peeta send Capitol people to get me? I didn't believe it for a second. "I don't think so. I'm just going to wait for Peeta."

"He thought you might be a bit apprehensive. He asked me to give you this." He handed me an envelope with Peeta's handwriting on it.

I tentatively opened it up, still questioning the reality of the situation. When I saw the note inside, I immediately recognized Peeta's handwriting.

 

_Katniss,_

_If you're reading this then that means you're giving Arvis a hard time. By the way, introduce yourself to Arvis. He's the one that made us warm milk on the train._

 

I lifted my head and introduced myself properly, "Hello, Arvis. I'm Katniss."

"Hello Miss Everdeen."

"Please. Call me Katniss."

"Anything you say, Miss Everdeen." Apparently Arvis didn’t do first names. Or maybe he couldn’t. I had no clue what the rules for attendants were. I continued reading Peeta's letter.

 

_Don't bother telling him to call you Katniss because he'll just keep calling you Miss Everdeen. He calls me Mr. Mellark_.

 

I had to giggle at how well Peeta could read people. Especially me.

 

_Arvis is going to escort you to my location. All you have to do is get in the car with him and not pepper him with questions._

 

I wasn't sure about this. It made me a bit nervous.

 

_Put your worries aside. Walk to the car and let's start our date._

_I'm waiting for you, Katniss._

 

I folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. Peeta was waiting for me. I set it on my kitchen table and turned to Arvis. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, Miss Everdeen." I smiled at his formal use of my name.

As I walked to the car I could feel multiple pairs of eyes on me. Rory's. Hazelle's. Greasy Sae's. And Gale's. It didn't seem to bother me one bit. For the first time in a very long time I was happy and it showed. I put on a dress, makeup and I did it gladly. For Peeta.

When I got into the car I noticed the man in the driver's seat. He didn't say a word. I wondered if he was an Avox, and said, “Hello,” anyway. If he couldn't speak, he could wave.

"Good evening, Miss Everdeen." Apparently he could speak.

"Please, call me Katniss." I situated myself and asked him his name. It was Crellen. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Arvis took the seat next to me and said, "Ready?"

"Yes." I couldn't catch my breath. _What does Peeta have in store for me?_ I was ready to ask Arvis, but then I remembered Peeta's note saying not to pepper him with questions. Instead I just enjoyed the ride and made small talk. "You know, Arvis. Peeta still makes me warm milk like you gave us on our last train ride."

I could tell he was flattered. "Really? That's nice to know." He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't.

"Arvis? Can I ask you something?" I was curious as to what would make this man that worked for the Capitol help Peeta.

"Yes, Miss."

"Why did you pick me up tonight?"

"Mr. Mellark is still preparing a few things."

"Oh." _What is he preparing? Where am I going? No peppering Katniss._

Arvis had that look on his face again. Like he really wanted to talk to me, but he was fighting with himself over it. He must've decided to go for it because he said to me, "Miss Everdeen, I wanted to tell you…to thank you really."

"Me? What for?" If anything I should be thanking him. He'd been waiting on me since I stepped on the first train to the Capitol.

"The people in the districts weren't the only ones oppressed, Miss Everdeen. There were plenty of those in the Capitol that lived a poor life. No wages. Minimal food and insufficient housing. Our lives weren't much to speak of. Some of us worked constantly with barely five minutes to sit down." I had always assumed that their lives were so much better than mine, but I got the impression that it was just a fancier version of the hell we dealt with in the districts. "Because of you, I'm able to do what I want now."

"Then why are you still in a Capitol attendant's uniform?" Who would want to do that?

"I love trains and I like my job. Now that I'm doing it for myself, I find I can enjoy it. And it's all I know how to do. So, thank you for all that you've sacrificed for our freedom."

"I didn't do anything." My voice was quiet.

"You did more than you know, Miss Everdeen. If there's ever anything I can do to thank you. Please don't hesitate to ask."

This man had spent his life taking care of everyone but himself and he wanted to do something for me. To thank me. I was flabbergasted. I'd never ask anything of him. Actually… "There is one thing you can do for me."

"Anything, Miss Everdeen."

"Call me Katniss." I smiled and listened to him whisper my name to himself as though trying it on for size.

The rest of the car ride was interesting to say the least. I found out that Arvis was married and had a son who was in Plutarch's new singing show. "I'll have to watch it and cheer him on." I hadn't watched Plutarch's new creation yet, but I’d heard a few people around town talk about it. I had to admit, it did sound interesting. Having people compete via song as opposed to killing each other off, was a welcome thought.

"We're here, Miss… Katniss." Arvis opened my car door and took my hand to help me out of the vehicle. I was at the train platform. In front of me was the silver sleek train designated for trips to the Capitol. And waiting for me a few feet away was Peeta.

 

"Hi," Peeta's smile warmed my heart. As Arvis passed him he asked, "Did you give it to her?"

"Yes, sir." Arvis chuckled. "You were right. She wouldn't step out of her door until she read the note."

"Told you so."

"Peeta, what are we doing here?" I walked to him and took his outreached hands in mine.

"You look beautiful."

"So do you." He did. He was wearing a chocolate brown suit with a crisp white shirt and a blue tie that matched his eyes. "Now will you tell me why we're here?"

"You're so impatient, Katniss," he laughed. He put my arm through his and walked me the rest of the way to the train. When we entered it my heart stopped. It was always beautiful, but tonight in lieu of lights, there were candles. Everywhere. The scent of the flowers made my head feel light and swirly. Or maybe it was just being on the train again.

"We're not going anywhere are we?" This worried me.

"No. We're just dining here. And don't worry about your curfew either. You have an extra hour tonight." He smiled and kissed my hand. The scar on my arm seemed to glare up at me, but then Peeta did something amazing. He kissed it and lifted his eyes to mine. "Breathtakingly beautiful." About a thousand butterflies had taken up residence in my stomach at that very moment.

I looked around the train car and said, "How did you do all of this?"

"Two words. Effie Trinket." He led me to a sitting area and asked me if I wanted something to drink. I had a glass of lemonade infused with fresh strawberries. The flavor of the berries flooded my mouth as I drank and I shook my head at the sheer enormity that it must've taken him and Effie to pull something like this off. I made a mental note to call her tomorrow and express my gratitude.

"You didn't spend the day in town did you?" I asked with accusing eyes.

"Nope. I wanted to surprise you. Did I?" The look on his face reminded me of the little boy I saw across the schoolyard.

"Yes. I'm very surprised. This is exquisite." We were brought a tray of goose liver on puff pastries and I found myself wanting to gorge on it, but I was sure that there would be more so I wasn't overindulgent.

As we nibbled on the appetizer Peeta said, "I really do have to do something about the bakery though. It's sitting there like the district eye sore."

"Like build a new one?"

Peeta sighed. "I don't know. I really have no clue what to do with it. Any ideas?"

Peeta and I didn't need to work another day in our lives. We still received our Victor's salary. I suppose the government thought it was the least they could do for those of us that survived the arenas. It was what we were promised after all. Not that it made up for anything.

"It's not like you have to bake anymore, Peeta. I mean you could do anything you want now."

"I do. I paint all the time." His house was full of his artwork. "What about you, Katniss? What do you want to do?"

I had never given this any thought. Before, all I wanted to do was to stay alive. Now all I wanted was to stay sane. "I have no clue." I did like hunting, but I hated being gone for so long and leaving Peeta alone.

"What do you enjoy doing?" He sipped at a brown liquid with slices of fruit in it.

"Hunting. And…" I had to think. "I have no clue what I like doing. I've never really been able to just do something for the fun of it before." I envied Peeta's love of art. Even Haymitch had his geese now. I had nothing. "I like taking care of you." That was what I loved doing. I truly enjoyed being with Peeta.

"I'm flattered, but you can't spend every day watching me like a hawk. You have to find something that makes you happy. Isn't there anything that gives you joy?"

I began saying he did. He gave me joy, but he put up his hand and said, "Don't say me, either." Then he smiled.

What did I like doing with my time? I hated sewing. I hated instruments. I hated reading. I hated cooking. I did like singing, but that wasn’t something I did often. It brought up too many sad memories. I came to a conclusion. "Peeta, you might want to find another woman. I'm realizing that I'm not that much of a catch."

The sound of his laughter was contagious. "That's okay. I think you're a perfect catch."

I blushed and said, "Thank you."

Our dinner was served at the dining table. When Arvis lifted the silver dome that covered our entrée, I was touched. We dined on lamb stew with dried plumbs served over wild rice. It was by far the best stew I had ever tasted. I told this to Arvis and he said his wife would be pleased. She was the chef. I wondered if his son had worked on the train then I remembered, "Peeta, did you know that Arvis' son is on Plutarch's new singing show?"

"Really?" He looked to Arvis and said, "Is he any good?"

"Yes sir!" Arvis was a very proud father. "You should hear him."

"I'd love to," Peeta replied with a smile.

"I have his music chip with a song he sang last week. It's become quite popular through the districts."

"Would you play it for us?" I really did want to hear him sing.

"I’d be happy to. After dinner,” Arvis promised. Then he left us alone to enjoy the rest of the meal.

Dessert was an individual goat cheese and apple tart. The crust was flaky and buttery and I knew instantly that Peeta had made it.

"Do you like it?" He asked.

"Yes. It's delicious, Peeta."

"I was thinking about getting a goat so I could make my own cheese, but then I thought it'd be too much work."

I had to laugh. "They're not that hard to raise. We had one in our house, Peeta."

"Yes, but I have no clue how to raise a goat. Or make cheese, or milk it, or what it eats…"

"Goats eat everything in sight." I thought of Peeta's artwork and said, "It's probably best you avoid raising a goat."

After we finished our tart, we heard music filling the train car. Arvis' son, no doubt.

"Would you like to dance?" Peeta held his hand out to me.

"I'd love to." I stepped into his arms and listened to the crystal clear voice singing a song about being separated from the one he loved. He talked to the moon in hopes that his love would hear him, and wondered if she was feeling the same way as he. It was a song of love and loss. I thought of my time in District Thirteen when Peeta was being held in the Capitol and how I would cry at night. I wondered so many times if he was okay. If he was thinking of me like I had been thinking of him. The loneliness I felt. Those feelings seemed to wash over me as I listened to the words of the song.

 

_I'm feeling like I'm famous_   
_The talk of the town._   
_They say I've gone mad_   
_Yeah, I've gone mad_

 

_But they don’t know what I know_   
_‘Cause when the sun goes down_   
_Someone’s talking back_   
_Yeah, they’re talking back_

 

_At night when the stars light up my room_   
_I sit by myself_

 

_Talking to the moon, trying to get to you…_

 

I gripped Peeta's back, hugging him tightly to my chest. The words to the song hit home. The haunting melody pierced my heart. When it ended I looked at Peeta and saw tears brimming in his eyes.

"Arvis' son is gifted," I said. "That was lovely."

"Yeah," Peeta just held onto me. "That song was a little too close to reality though."

He walked me to the sofa and began telling me about his time in the Capitol after the second arena. "When I was first brought back there, I didn't know what to make of it. I thought you had died in the explosion during the Games, and I wanted to die too. No one would answer my questions when it came to you. I guess they were instructed not to. The morning after I got there Darius came in with some food for me and I knew he'd find a way to tell me so…so I whispered your name and he squeezed my hand and gave me a little nod. I just knew you were okay after that. Then I started to think that maybe they had you in another room somewhere. Giving you medical treatment so we could go back into the arena again. That caused a whole other slew of worries. It wasn't until the next morning when they brought me into a room with President Snow that I found out exactly what had happened. Portia was —“ He cleared his throat. "She was sitting in the room with my prep team and I could tell that they were afraid, but not Portia. She was holding her head up high and looking straight ahead. Then they showed us footage of the Games – Johanna hitting you over the head and cutting out your tracker, Beetee trying to short out the force field and getting electrocuted, you achieving what Beetee couldn’t. Then Snow said that you escaped the arena with Finnick and Beetee." A sad smile crossed his face when he said, “Portia’s chin seemed to rise a little higher when she heard that. She was proud of you, Katniss. So was I.” The tears that had been building up, dripped down his cheeks as he continued. Peeta’s fingers interlaced with mine. He sat silently for a minute, as though he were searching for the courage to go on. “I know what I said on television,” his voice trembled, “but I had no choice. I was ordered to appear with Caesar on his show and answer his questions, and I knew they wanted me to blame you, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. Then after that—“

"We don't have to talk about what happened after that, Peeta." I knew what happened after that. Snow held onto Peeta’s interview until it would do the most damage, and during that time he was slowly turning him into a weapon.

"I thought about you all the time,” Peeta said instead of spelling out the details of his hijacking, “but nighttime was the worst. That’s when I really felt your absence. If, by chance, I did fall asleep, I’d have nightmares about losing you. I’d feel around in the darkness for you, but my arms were always empty," he held them out in front of himself and looked at them as though something was missing. "My stomach would twist into knots, because my nightmares had come true.” I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I lost you.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said then pressed my lips against his in a healing kiss. Brushing our mingled tears off of his cheeks with the pads of my thumbs, I took as deep of a breath as I could and repeated my apology.

“I used to wonder if you were thinking about me too. I hoped you were."

I positioned myself in his lap; pulling his arms around me. "I did. All the time. I was so lost without you, Peeta. I was a mess." I thought of how pathetic I had been back then. "I wanted to die without you too." I felt his kiss against my temple. "Finnick and I used to sit together and mope. We were both wrecks." I thought of Annie and how she had to face the rest of her life without Finnick, and my stomach clenched. "I don't know what I would've done if you had died,” I spoke into Peeta’s neck.

"Me too." His lips found mine in a soft caress. "I missed you so much, Katniss."

"I missed you too. I never want to feel that way again. It was devastating." Though Peeta and I had done practically everything together these past few months, the one thing we rarely did, was discuss the war. Other than my nightmares, I never told him about the specifics that led us to the Capitol to take down Snow. It was a part of my life I wanted to forget, and I was pretty sure Peeta didn’t feel like reliving his torture. Tonight though, it felt right sharing these things with him. It was as though we were both unburdening our souls so we could move forward. It was a huge step. One I hadn’t been ready to take before.

I told him how lost I was and how I barely made it through each day. “I’d hide in the ventilation shafts and rub the pearl between my fingertips.” I rested my head on his shoulder as I went on; telling him about the nights I dreamt of him, how the hospital staff would have to search for me and drug me in order to get me back to my room. How, after I was released, I no longer needed to find a small space to hide, because I’d get lost in my own thoughts for hours at a time. "Then I saw you on television and it just got worse. All I did was worry about you,” I told him. “I waited for them to tell me that they rescued you. That you were coming back to me, but they never did. Plutarch and Coin sat me down and explained that they needed me to be the voice of the rebellion,” I let out a disgusted huff at the memory. “I told them they should have rescued you if they wanted a voice.” I could hear Peeta’s sniff of laughter in my ear, but he remained quiet; allowing me to go on. “Then one night… Prim had this idea." I told him how I had agreed to be the Mockingjay as well as the conditions I set.

"So you did that for me?" I could hear the surprise in his voice. “So that they’d rescue me?”

"Yes."

“They wouldn’t have otherwise, huh?”

I thought for a second before answering his question, “No. I don’t think they would have. After the rescue team had left Thirteen, Haymitch told me that rescuing you would be costly. That covers would be blown. Lives lost. Maybe they would have tried to get you out in order to get me to do their bidding had I not agreed to be the Mockingjay when I did, but I honestly don’t believe that one would have happened without the other.”

"Oh, Katniss,” there was pity in his voice.

Even though we never discussed it, Peeta knew how much I hated being the person responsible for all of those deaths in the war. The amount of people we lost. I still wasn’t sure that Panem would recover. That we wouldn’t die off. The truth was, the human race was still one epidemic away from extinction. The guilt I felt weighed heavily upon my shoulders.

“You should have never agreed to be the Mockingjay for me,” Peeta’s words broke my heart.

I wondered if he knew truth. My actions as the face of the rebellion were the cause of his hijacking. “I should have never agreed to it at all,” my voice cracked and tears burned in the back of my eyes. “I’m the reason you were tortured and Snow did what he–“

“What?” Peeta sat erect and moved me from his lap to the spot on the sofa next to him while we practically talked over one another. “That’s not what I meant, Katniss.”

“I kept thinking about the way he tortured you because of me. That it must have gotten so much worse for you after each one of my propos aired.”

“No. No. He would have done it anyway. Or worse, he would have executed me on live television.”

“If I had known what Snow was doing,” I kept on talking; ignoring Peeta’s argument. “I would have never agreed to it.” My eyes bore through his. “I only did what I did because I thought…I thought—“ my throat was threatening to close off at the memory of Peeta thrashing on his hospital bed in Thirteen; struggling to break free of his restraints. “I didn’t know, Peeta,” I tried to convince him. “I had no idea how Snow was using you against me.”

“I can say the same thing, Katniss,” Peeta spoke with a quiet urgency. “He promised me that he’d let you live if I did that initial interview with Caesar and call for a cease fire.” So Gale had been right when he said that Peeta had probably struck a deal with Snow in order to save my life. Peeta continued, “He told me that one of us would have to die, and that it could be me and he’d let you live, so I agreed to it.”

Obviously, Peeta hadn’t struck the same deal with Snow that I had in my study before the Quell. “He lied to you.”

“Yeah, but I actually believed him.” Peeta gave his head a disgusted shake. “That was about two days after I got to the Capitol, but Haymitch told me they didn’t air it for almost a month. By that time, my diet consisted of moldy bread and a cup of water a day if I was lucky.” I brushed the hair off of Peeta’s forehead and allowed him to talk like he had allowed me. “Snow started using the tracker jacker venom on me. Little doses at first, then they’d beat me. If they needed me to say something in response to the rebel’s actions, he’d strike another deal. ‘Would you like to live, Peeta? Would you like all of this to end?’” It almost felt like Snow haunted Peeta’s tone as he rehashed their conversations. “’I can make it so that you and Katniss both live. Lock you both up in a quiet little jail cell.’ And stupid me, I kept on believing him and did what he asked, because I knew the alternative would mean a very long, and painful death for you. By the end, before he turned me full mutt, he was telling me that you were the reason the war happened. That you killed my—“ Peeta stopped himself before saying, “my family.” “Well,” he cleared his throat, “you know what Snow convinced me of.”

The sounds of an occasional sniffle, and deep swallows, echoed through the quiet room as we both ruminated about the choices we made, and the repercussions they had on the other’s life.

“I’m sorry, Katniss,” Peeta finally broke through the silence.

Hearing Peeta apologize to me for actions that were out of his control, was the final straw as far as I was concerned. Peeta and I had already lost so much: family, friends, our childhoods. The two people that used us as their pawns were dead, so how much more were we going to give them? I wiped the already drying tears from my face, and then brushed away Peeta’s. “None of these things were our fault Peeta. It was Snow's fault. Coin's fault. But not ours. Never ours,” I said convincingly.

Peeta gave me one nod and said, “You’re right. We were just two kids trying to stay alive, weren't we?"

I thought back to the first arena. The berries. Okay, maybe some of it was my fault, but I would have never had to pull the nightlock out if Peeta and I hadn’t been placed in the arena in the first place. “That’s exactly what we were,” I agreed with his assessment.

"Hey," he tried for a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "This isn't a very good topic of conversation for a date."

"No. I guess it's not."

This time when Peeta smiled at me, it came naturally. “What do you say we talk about something else?”

“Sounds good.” More comfortable than I had been in a long time, I rested my head against his shoulder and asked, “Got any suggestions?”

We started discussing the bakery again, "So you really don't want to rebuild it?" Who could blame him? I wouldn't want to either.

"Not really. I mean, it's not like baking was my passion or anything." No baking wasn't his passion, but art was.

"Oh, I know!” I jumped to my feet and said with excitement, “What about an art studio?"

"You mean tear down the bakery and put an art studio there? Why would I do that?"

"Why not? You could have an entire space dedicated to painting and not just a bedroom." The more I thought about this idea the more I liked it.

"Hmmm?" He was thinking about it. "My paintings are kind of piling up at my house, but I wouldn't want to paint there all the time." I knew he was talking about nights when the nightmares struck.

"You wouldn't have to. You could use it during the day and bring your finished work there and… Oh I don't know. I just know that nothing makes you as happy as your art, so why not have a dedicated space for it?”

Peeta got to his feet too, and took my hands in his. “Let me clarify something with you, Katniss. You make me happier than art ever could. You know that, don’t you?”

In the past, a comment like this coming from Peeta, would have made me feel uncomfortable and guilty, but not anymore. I gave his hands a squeeze and said, “I do know that Peeta.”

“Good.”

“So? What do you think about my idea?” I asked him.

”It's funny. Whenever I think about the bakery I can't help but think about my past." He pressed a kiss against my forehead. "Leave it to you to help me find my future in it."

"So you'll do it?"

"Yes. I'll do it."

I hugged him and wondered what steps we’d have to take. "The only question now is how to get it done."

"I'm not sure, but at least it'll give us something to do." He chuckled.

"And it will give you a place for your paintings."

When Arvis walked in. I told him how beautiful his son's voice was and that I had never heard a song like that before. He told me that it was from an era of music from many years ago. "They have different themes each week on the show and last week was music from before the Dark Days.”

"I'd love to buy a copy of his music chip. It's truly remarkable." But I didn't need to buy one. Arvis was more than thrilled to give me his.

"Your car is ready Mr. Mellark." Arvis took my hand in his and placed a kiss on it. "Katniss, I hope to see you both of you again soon. It’s been a pleasure serving you."

Upon our exit, I noticed that train platform was buzzing with people. Many of whom I recognized. When I mentioned it to Peeta he seemed indifferent towards it all. He just wanted to get home. So did I. The night had flown by, but it was almost 9:00pm.

The car dropped us off in front of my house. Peeta and I walked towards the front door, but when we got there he stopped. "Do you think it would be okay if I kissed you goodnight, Katniss?" Considering he kissed me all time without asking, I had no clue why he had started now. "You know…like a real date."

Oh, I thought but didn’t say. "I'd like that very much."

We stood in front of my door and he put his finger under my chin then pressed his lips lightly against mine. When Peeta pulled back, he said, "If I had worked up the nerve to ask you out when we were younger, that's how I would've kissed you goodnight. Fortunately for me, I'm not a kid anymore." He stepped closer to me and kissed me with such passion that I felt my toes curling in my shoes.

The kiss ended with the tip of his tongue tracing my lips, and a soft peck. We stood standing beneath the moonlight. My eyes were closed, my limbs weighted with desire, and my body flush against Peeta’s. With a very shaky breath, I said, “Going slow is going to be very challenging.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr. I’m jamiesommers23.  
> Follow joshiferrecs on Tumblr for Josh/Jen fanfiction written by various authors.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Follow me on tumblr I'm jamiesommers23


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